


Masterpieces Arc

by OKami_hu



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Backstory, Friendship, M/M, Plug and Play Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were lovers for a night. When they met again, things got very complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Small Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Posting it on demand... Please keep in mind that this was essentially an RP, and the formatting might be strange. It was done years ago, and it definitely isn't a polished gem. 
> 
> But there's a lot of smut.
> 
> The prequel can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/777947).

As Mirage sipped at his meager cube of energon, he tried not grimace at the continued company of the brown and red warrior standing far too close to him.

"So, ya know, if a pretty little thing like you ever needs some assistance, I'd be happy to oblige."

Mirage curled his fingers tighter around the cube; he couldn't afford to splash it in the larger mech's face. "I'm sure I'll be fine on my own..." The soldier's name escaped him at the moment.

"Nitro," the mech supplied, smiling at the spy.

"Nitro, thank you. Your offer is generous, but honestly, I'd like to settle in here a little before... getting friendly with everyone."

Nitro sidled closer, his shadow falling over the spy from the dim lights of the commissary ceiling. "Aw, but we're all friendly here, 'specially me." 

"Then go and be the friend to your own squadron members, Nitro," somebody spoke up from behind. "I'm sure Steelfist would appreciate your company." A green hand came to rest on Mirage's arm, warm and gentle. "We just got back from a mission, and Prowl will need our reports. 'Raj, you gotta help me write it." 

Mirage smiled in gratitude at Hound's interruption, relaxing instantly at the scout's presence. "Of course, Hound."

He followed the green scout away from Nitro, not even dignifying the obnoxious warrior with a farewell. Once out of audio range he leaned closer to Hound. "I am forever in you debt, thank you," he said lightheartedly. 

Hound chuckled. "No problem. Nitro is renowned for being a spark hunter and I was sure you wouldn’t appreciate his manners. Besides, we have to stick together..." 

The little team had turned out to be an effective unit ever since they were assigned to work together. All of them had their special abilities and they completed each other perfectly. Lieutenant Jazz encouraged them to keep doing well because the continued effort could easily get them into higher ranks, more important missions. And all of them liked the sound of it. They all had scores to settle with the Decepticons. 

Hound patted a tabletop in the corner. "Let's sit down. If you don't mind... I'd like to spend a little time with you. We haven't really talked in the past few orns; there was so much to do." 

With the fluid motions instilled in him from childhood, Mirage slid gracefully into his seat, back straight, elbows at his sides, one ankle sliding behind the other to keep his knees together. It was behavior difficult to unlearn and alerted pretty much anyone who observed him for half a breem where he'd come from.

"Not at all, Hound. It would be my pleasure to get to know my teammate." 

The green scout nodded and settled down as well, leaning back on the chair, his legs slightly apart - an interesting contrast to Mirage's more elegant posture. But Hound was not a member of the Elite, far from it. His armor thinned out* around Vos, on the rough parts of the planet and on various miner moons. He had an honest working mech for a father who raised him to be a good Autobot - but not the most refined one. 

Hound was painfully aware of this every time he saw Mirage and now his cooling fans hummed up a bit in embarrassment. He pulled himself together a bit, to sit straight. 

"Umm, I haven't even asked before, how are you getting along with Blue as a roommate?" The Twins, naturally, bunked together in one small room, and Hound was left with one of his old friends from another platoon. 

"He's been quite friendly, if rather verbose. Even in his sleep..." Mirage tried not to hold it against the younger mech; one couldn't easily overcome such dysfunctional programming without proper therapy and medical assistance, neither of which was readily available for the Autobots. So instead, Mirage consulted a medic and learned how to shut off his own audios at night.

"Is... is Bluestreak involved with one of the twins? He speaks quite fondly of them both." 

"Err, he's actually involved with both," Hound grinned a bit sheepishly. "He totally admires Sideswipe's toughness... I guess he wants to be like him, so carefree and strong. And he's awed by Sunstreaker, but then again, who isn't...?" He took a sip from his energon. "He's really a finely crafted mech. If he doesn't speak, you could easily take him for an Iacon Tower resident." 

Mirage nodded, mood becoming sullen. "Yes, he's certainly had enough practice." He paused, thinking over Hound's words. "You don't know much about Sunstreaker's exploits before the war, do you?" 

Hound shrugged. "A bit. Sides told me they hail from Kalis, and their creator was an artist as well, and Sunstreaker, when he has really nothing better to do, still draws. There's... actually a rumor of him having some connections to the Cons previously, but it might be just foul talk, as he's usually not the nicest Bot around... Some say he's only a Bot because the purple insignia would have clashed with his yellow paintjob. I really don't know, and frankly, I don't even care as long as he has my back... he's an excellent fighter."

Mirage couldn’t help the amused smile and giggle. "He’s certainly vain enough for such reasoning. Although I doubt he’d choose to associate with Decepticons." Mirage paused, thinking on his next words. "It’s been so long since I last saw him, and he’s changed so much from how I remember. And I’ve been wrong before about mechs I thought I knew."

It still hurt to think about Flamestrike. Mirage had loved him, and thought the other young Tower mech had loved him too. He’d never thought any of his friends and acquaintances would betray their own people as they had, joining the Decepticons and taking up arms against the same mechs and femmes they had grown up with. 

"Sunstreaker was a popular and skilled artist, and many of Iacon admired his works. Despite his class, Iacon’s Elite were eager to take him into the folds of the society. He could have easily gained a sponsorship and moved to the Iacon Towers if he’d been inclined. However, he wouldn’t even consider such an idea because of his ties to Kalis. Such amazing talent, and such a stunning mech. Now he is anonymous in this army and… so much colder," Mirage mused, voice so quiet that only Hound’s nearness allowed the scout to hear him.

"Wow, he was actually that good?" Hound blinked. "I guess... maybe that's why he's so arrogant at times... He's used to a lot better and I suppose he misses art. I know I miss the miner moons. And... most of us changed. Blue is- I mean, he’s seen his fair share of slag as have we all. It can seriously scramble a mech. I don't envy the medics, I guess they have the hardest job here." 

"It seems none have been left unscathed by this war," Mirage mused. "Class means nothing when everyone is equally slagged." Vulgarity was not usually something he allowed in his vocabulary, but for the situation, it fit. 

"Hnn." Hound nodded and stared into his cube. He felt as if his processors slowed down to a near stop and all his memory banks had been wiped. What could you talk about with a Tower mech...? Especially if you barely knew him and you happened to think he was downright gorgeous...? If it had been Bluestreak or Sideswipe, Hound would have asked them out straight away, but Mirage... He was so different. He was such a fine mech, and Hound didn't want to look like a rude brat from some remote energon farm.

"H-how did you two meet, if I can ask...? I mean, Sunstreaker and you." 

"An exhibition my father held. He'd acquired several of Sunstreaker's works and had personally invited him." Mirage chuckled at the memory. "He came late because of transportation delays. Looked ready to deck the journalists my father had invited after some personal questions they'd voiced.

"We got to talking and spent almost the entire night together talking about art. I was... an admirer of his and he was flattered." Mirage frowned. "I don't think he even remembers me, and if he does, it seems he didn't leave with fond feelings." 

"Naah, he's just glitching like the bunch of sunshine he is!" Hound claimed. "Sure he still remembers you. And he’s not angry with you, after all, how could he be? I mean, a mech like you-" he paused here, vents humming up. Oh Primus, he nearly said it...! "I-I mean, you surely didn't offend him or anything, after all, you're an aristocrat, so well-mannered and smart..." 

Mirage smiled at Hounds kind words. "Thank you, perhaps you're right. I just hope that even if we can't have what we did before, we can still be friends. Because surely, despite how much he's changed, there's still some of the Sunstreaker I remember so fondly." 

Hound couldn't say anything to that. He’d never known the twins until they met in the army; he couldn't really imagine Sunstreaker being anything else but proud, vain and rather sharp, to the point of cutting everybody who tried to get closer to him. Even Bluestreak had rambled about his coldness on bad days when the young gray gunner fell into one of his depressive fits. Sideswipe usually came for him then and tried to drag him out of it. 

"I just hope," he said slowly, "that we'll all become good friends. After all, we're in the same platoon, we have to work together. It seems to have worked so far." 

Mirage nodded. "Yes, it wouldn't do well for us to be unable to work together."

He directed another smile at Hound. "I've already made one reliable friend." 

"A-ah." Hound's faceplates heated up. "R-really, you consider me that? Wow, that's so frag- err, I mean, it's great!" He beamed at Mirage. "I'm happy to be your friend, cause I like you and I kinda hope I can learn a bit from you. And your ability matches mine...!" 

Mirage was grinning at the friendly enthusiasm. "Yes, I think I heard Sideswipe giggling something about us and 'Hide and Seek.' He's very easily amused, isn't he?" It wasn't a condescending comment, just an observation. Sideswipe seemed to enjoy driving everyone up the wall. From the other soldiers, to the medics, to even the officers. 

"That he is," Hound agreed. "He's a big prankster... When Trailbreaker and I came here, after the first recharge, we found ourselves repainted... I was yellow, and Trailbreaker was pink. Now, I'm sure you’ve seen him... he's kinda big and broad. Imagine him in pink." He covered his optics. "I actually screamed. Half the base was laughing at us, but a few nice ones helped to scrape it off." 

Mirage couldn't stop the small giggle at the imagery, then coughed, trying to smother the rebellious amusement. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be insensitive or mean, but it's a rather amusing picture. I doubt yellow suits you as well as it does Sunstreaker. And I doubt pink suits any mech." 

"It's for femmes," the green mech agreed. "Lieutenant Elita-One is pink, but she can kick serious tailgate." He was running out of conversation topics again... "Uhh... since it came up, maybe we could... check our equipment someday? Maybe we can come up with a way to more effectively combine them." 

Mirage nodded, about to agree when the double meaning hit him. He grinned, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he laughed lightly. "Check our equipment and combine it? Shouldn't you buy me a drink first?" Mirage teased lightheartedly. He hoped he didn't embarrass his new friend too much. 

Judging by the confusion merging to sheer horror on Hound's faceplates, he did a good job on it, though. "N-no! I didn't mean it like THAT!" the poor young mech squealed, vents promptly spitting steam. "I meant- for battle! Not like- I'd never- Oh Primus, strike me down." He collapsed on the table, hiding his faceplates behind his arms. "I'm sorryyy..." he whimpered pathetically. 

Mirage reached over, giving Hound's shoulder a reassuring pat. "No offense taken, Hound. I know you didn't mean it that way. An apology isn't necessary. Except perhaps from me for embarrassing you, which I am sorry for. I didn't think you'd take it quite that hard." 

Hound glanced up and slowly pulled himself up to sit straight. He couldn't really look at Mirage though. "I-it's okay, I just... I wouldn't dream of making such... blatant passes at you, you know? Because..." He let a deep intake cycle through his ventilation, "I hope that maybe, someday... we could perhaps be a little more than friends." There, he said it. If Mirage refused... At least he'll know he had no chances to begin with. Simple mechs should stick to their kind... 

Mirage slowly pulled back into his own seat, looking at his lap. His optics darted to Hound, then back down. "Thank you, Hound, that is flattering. And maybe someday we could. But for now, I'm not entirely ready for a lover again. Right before I joined the Autobots, my former lover Flamestrike and I parted on the worst terms.

"I've been having some trust issues ever since. And I had known him for several vorns. We've just met and, well again, maybe once we've gotten to know each other better. And with what's been happening with Suns-" Mirage stopped mid-sentence. That was too much information and opening the door to too many questions. But he feared he may have been a little too slow in catching his slip-up. 

Sunstreaker...? What, maybe there was more going on behind the scenes...? Hound shook his head and reached out to curl his fingers around Mirage's hand. "It's alright; it's more than I hoped for." He smiled at the young spy. "I'll wait. I'll prove that you can trust me, no matter what, and I'll be patient until you can give me an answer. Thank you, Mirage."

Sunstreaker was undoubtedly pretty, but he could be a real glitch at times. Hound was sure that as far a personality went, he was in a much better position than the golden mech. 

"Thank you," Mirage said, smiling again at Hound. He really hoped he could build up the courage to start something with the scout. Hound was wonderfully kind and friendly, and liked him.

As soon as he could figure out how to purge the fear of ever being close to someone again. And resolve what he had had with Sunstreaker. Even though a part of his spark had always held out for his first love, the feelings surfacing upon seeing Sunstreaker again, maybe it would be wise to finally just... let go of them. Sunstreaker had a new lover and seemed to care little for Mirage, even as a friend. It would only lead to sparkache to keep holding out. Even if he didn't know how to let go. 

"Okay, we have a deal then!" the green mech claimed with a playful grin. "But let's clear away the remaining energon, then we should write that report. Prowl won't take kindly to it being late!" 

"You mean there's a time he can be kind?" Mirage said playfully, finishing his cube in a quick succession of soundless sips. 

Hound downed his own with one gulp; he was used to quite potent high-grade. "You have a point." He nodded firmly. "I've never seen him being 'nice'. You've seen the acid pellet guns on his shoulders? Some say, when he got them, they removed his spark. That's why he's so cold all the time." 

"Sounds like quite a nasty rumor," Mirage replied. He'd taken his own share of cruel words. "And even if he isn't nice, he at least is true to the Autobot cause, and the Prime surely wouldn't have appointed him if he'd thought Prowl was that horrid." 

"Yeah, they seem to be close, I mean, professionally." Hound nodded. "Prowl is a tactician, after all; he's responsible for our maneuvers, and he's doing a good job." He waved to a few mechs as they made their way toward their quarters. "Though, it makes a bit of sense... Everybody here had lost somebody, or got his or her home destroyed. I bet Prowl is no different. Still, we can never see him even being upset." 

"Perhaps it's a front to keep order among the ranks? I mean, when the mech who makes all the battle plans so things don't go bad thinks a situation is hopeless, it can't do well for everyone else.”

"I've also noticed he's usually the one to deal out discipline among the soldiers. It would be difficult to punish someone if he's friends with them," Mirage pointed out. 

"Hmm. Once again, that makes sense. You're so smart, Mirage." There was no mocking in the tone, merely a touch of awe. "I just… never really tried to see into things before, y'know? Where I used to live, life was pretty simple." 

Mirage smiled, system heating a little in flattered embarrassment. "Thank you, Hound. I just observe is all. My father always encouraged me to study, note, and take in everything. It's a useful trait in business to know people as well as they know themselves.

"And you know, a simple life isn't bad. For all my insight and intellectual knowledge, I'm quite hopeless when it comes to relating to anyone not of a similar background to me, who are in the vast majority.

"I wish I had your finesse for forming friendships and camaraderie among our teammates."

"It appears we can both teach a few things to each other." Hound smiled at the spy, and finally opened the door to the room he shared with his older friend. He was currently not present, though. "We could start with getting to know each other a little better... I'm curious about what life in the Tower was like. But first, that darn report."

 

\----------  
thinned out* = TF sparklings have very thick armor. As they grow up, the armor thins. "Having a thick armor" is a widely used insult when trying to indicate that a mech is still young and inexperienced.


	2. Fantasy Ride

It was another battle of Autobot vs. Decepticon, the Autobots trying to repel the Decepticons from a neutral settlement, the Decepticons wanting more recruits. The smell of burning ozone permeated the air as laser fire was traded from both sides.

Sideswipe let out a startled cry as his knee joint was shot out, collapsing roughly against the harsh and gritty metal ground. He ducked and covered his head as more laser fire flew above him. Chancing a glance up, he spotted Bluestreak not too far away.

"Blue! Hey, Blue! I could use a little help here!" Sideswipe called out. "Fraggit all," he groaned quietly, trying not to move his leg and worsen the burning pain shooting up his neural receptors 

Bluestreak craned his neck to see his friend better, nearly getting his chevron shot off in the process. As he registered the situation, saw the small purplish puddle around Sideswipe's knee, he gasped, whipped out his other gun, and broke out of cover, putting his remarkable speed to use. He targeted the red twin, firing all the while, and finally landed next to him with a long leap. "Oh my dear Primus Sideswipe, you're hurt, I need to take you to cover immediately; these fragging Cons won't cease fire for a nanoklik. Does it hurt much, do you think you can still walk somehow?" The endless chatter just got worse when Bluestreak was nervous. 

"If you help me I can," Sideswipe said with a grimace as he got to his knees, holding out a hand for Bluestreak to take. They had to move quickly before the Decepticons noticed the two mechs out in the open. 

"Okay, it'll be fine I promise, just hold on to me, I'll help you but we need a cover first but I don't know where- Oh that's it that'd do perfectly!" He pointed out a mostly intact wall of a building. It seemed thick enough, definitely suited to hide an injured mech behind it. 

"Just grab me tight, Sides, we'll be there in no time and then I'll see to your leg, I just hope it's not too serious--you know I'm not a medic--but I don't want you to bleed to death here, but the fuel lines need to be closed-" 

Sideswipe was helped to a standing position by Bluestreak, holding his injured leg carefully above the ground. He curled his arm tight around Bluestreak's shoulders as he prepared himself for the inevitable pain.

"Gotcha, Blue, let's go before the 'Cons make us their next target practice." 

The gunner nodded quickly and broke into a sprint; even with his friend's weight he was very quick, and Sideswipe's feet barely had to touch the ground. However, the Cons had a few good marksmen, too, and Bluestreak shrieked as a series of shots hit the ground too close to his heels. He doubled his efforts and eventually leapt again, dragging the red twin with him to shelter behind the remains of the wall, carefully landing on his back so his injured companion was on top. He couldn't help a deep grunt; his sensitive doorwings had gotten hit, and it hurt. 

Sideswipe hissed as his leg was jostled with the landing. As his intakes cycled air to his strained systems, he gave Blue a small grin. "Topping you, even outside of the berth," Sideswipe teased. 

The gunner's vents hummed up from embarrassment. "Great, you're injured and even now you can’t think about anything else!" he scowled. "Now let go of me, I need to see your wound and treat it because if you drop offline, I can't carry you back to base--and you won't ever again top me, so there!" 

Sideswipe laughed as he rolled off Bluestreak. "Such a pushy bottom," he snarked, propping himself up against their shelter. 

Bluestreak looked like he was contemplating the idea of punching Sideswipe instead of fixing him, but eventually deeper loyalties prevailed over the moment's temper. He pulled a small medkit from subspace and observed the wound closely. 

"Okay, you know this will hurt, I have to close the fuel tube and seal off the injury and the most I can do is use some cooling liquid on it. Don't shout too loudly, not like when we're in our berth okay?" He pulled out a small can and sprayed the wound. Cooling liquid temporarily numbed the pain receptors, though it was nowhere near as effective as shutting them off. 

Sideswipe's laugh at Blue's comment morphed into a sigh of relief at the momentary lapse of pain. "You're so good to me Blue," he cooed playfully. And he was corrup- raising him so well too! He couldn't imagine the skittish young mech Bluestreak had been when they'd met teasing him about their berth activities.

"And I don't shout that loudly," Sideswipe protested. 

"I'll ask Blaster to record it for you to hear," Blue replied, and took some of the dark goo of the temporary seal material onto his fingertip. He steadied Sideswipe's leg and reached into the wound to smear the sticky substance on the torn fuel tube. When done right, it didn't block the circulation, but even when it did, the lines could take some pressure still. He tried to work quickly to save his friend the pain, but at the same time, it had to be done carefully. 

Sideswipe watched Bluestreak work; quick, smooth, confident. The affection he held for the younger gunner only grew.

"I remember when you first came to base Blue. You were like a glitch mouse in a den of cybercats. Now look at ya, running into laser fire and patching my sorry aft up like it's an everyday thing." He paused. "Well, it pretty much is. But that doesn't change how proud I am of you," he finished, sincerity in his tone. 

"I'm not your sparkling," Bluestreak said calmly, his hands never stopping. Of course it was only a temporary solution, the seal eventually wore off, cables and struts dislocated and snapped easily when they were not properly straightened. But it would do until they can have a medic to look at it. 

He sprayed some more cooling liquid on the wound, and took some broad bandage tape to close it for the time being. He wrapped it around the injured joint, then gently cupped it with both hands and touched his lips to it. He looked up. 

"But I'm so insanely thankful that you care for me. You and Sunny keep me sane, you keep me going. You don't complain when I keep screaming in the night... You know me. You love me. And I love you so much in return." 

Trust Bluestreak to make declarations of love when there was still laserfire peppering on their cover, a few roving beams passing above their heads. 

Not that Sideswipe cared.

"Can't help but adore ya, Blue. You're one of the few mechs who can appreciate me and Sunny for who we are, and not be afraid of us or our reputations. It's nice to be wanted by someone as sweet as you. And you've got the cutest little turbofox pup eyes this side of Cybertron.

"Besides," Sideswipe added in a conspiratorial whisper, "If you weren't around, I would've gone insane being left alone with Sunny. That would've killed me, because my insanity was driving him insane." 

The gunner laughed a bit. "Come on, you're Spark Twins, you couldn't live without each other. Anyway, now that you can move, let's crawl into there." He pointed out a yawning gap on the wall leading into the intact part of the building. "Looks like an old maintenance station for the tube lines. Maybe we can wait the battle out in there, and besides, if it's still operable, we could be back at base in no time." 

Sideswipe nodded, "Better than sitting out here like a couple of training dummies."

He shifted around until he could use the steel wall for support. "Think I can stand on my own now," the red warrior mumbled, slowly easing himself up until he was standing. He had to hold back a cry of pain as he accidentally put too much pressure on his injured leg and his vision flashed white for a moment.

"Weeeell, that was unpleasant," Sideswipe said, vocalizer rough from withholding the pain. "Think you're still gonna have to be my crutch, Blue." 

"Sure. Lean on me, here." A gray shoulder was offered, and Blue tapped at the side of his helm, comming their current platoon leader to tell him that they were going off-sight due to an injury. He got an affirmative and a strict order to reply back at least twice a megacycle with coordinates. 

The wall covered them well, so there was no real hurry, but better to be safe than sorry; Bluestreak tried to help support Sideswipe as much as he could so they could reach the interior of the building sooner. 

He was right about the place. Back at home, he used the tubes quite a lot and eventually befriended some maintainers; they were delighted to take him on a tour every once in a while. The next building had collapsed but fell relatively clear of the small station, and the corridor leading to the lines was still intact. This meant that the Cons could follow, but the gunner hoped they could be off before anybody came down here. 

As they walked, Sideswipe did everything in his power to keep his mind off the pain. So he thought about something funny, like... Prowl in pink paint. Prowl in neon pink paint. Prowl in neon pink paint with glitter and streamers adorning his frame.

He couldn't help the shakes in his frame at the imagery, soft guffaws escaping his vocalizer. Yep, that cured the pain.

And now he was thinking about the pain again. He let out a small groan, more from annoyance than the actual liquid fire running up his leg with every step he took-

"Blue, distract me. I'm trying not to think about the pain, but I keep thinking about it because I'm trying not to." 

"Umm, if you can take it a while longer, just while we walk down to the station, you might not need the distraction anymore because you'll be able to sit down and enjoy the ride," Bluestreak said. "But, y'know I heard this story two orns ago… Jazz was telling it to Ratchet and Wheeljack, he was walking along the corridors of the officer’s quarters and heard some quarreling. Now, he certainly didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it seemed Chromia and Ironhide were having a heated debate and Chromia was very furious and telling Ironhide something about somebody behaving like a glitchy sparkling and whatnot, and Ironhide was trying to calm her, and eventually it sounded he indeed managed to do that because she was yelling, still, but quite differently." He snickered as he led his friend down the narrow corridor. 

"~Bow-chicka-bow-wow," Sideswipe snickered. "Earlier today I saw Ratchet and Wheeljack come out of Prime's office. Apparently they're on notice for 'improper use of communication channels,'" he couldn't help the cackle at the thought of the beloved Hatchet being reprimanded. "And yours truly eavesdr- overheard what they'd been doing." 

"Oh dear Primus... Just the Prime reciting it or the real thing?" Blue flashed off his famous turbofox cub imitation. "I think Ratchet is sexy. I mean, come on, he's perfectly white, save his hands and hips and chevrons...! Oooh, cool, it still works...!" He helped his friend into the car standing there, ready to be launched. It was in quite a nice working order, but that was understandable, so near a still active settlement. 

"Way ta go, Blue," Sideswipe cheered, settling back against the car wall. "But no, just heard Prime talking about it. Though now I'm curious about the stuff the Hatchet and Wheeljack talk about. I think there was mention of role-playing in the base violations.

"And honestly, I think Ratchet painted himself that way on purpose, the kinky glitch. I swear I saw a 'Con checking out his aft on the battlefield. 'Course, that was right before I shot that little slag sucker. 'Cause you know, no one can check out our medic's bright red aft but us." 

"And nobody's allowed to touch it, either!" Blue chimed with delight. "That would actually make for a very fine game, you know, trying to touch his red parts, only problem is that he'd probably frag us on the spot." His hands worked on the consoles. His maintainer friends liked him enough to share a few funny little secrets about the tube lines; if one knew the right cheats, all sort of neat tricks could be pulled off with them. Blue was currently punching in code, which masked the last requested destination. Hopefully, even if the Cons invade and checked, they would fall for it and not get anywhere near the base. Of course, going all the way there was not an option, but from a close enough safe point others could fetch them easily. 

"Well, 'cept 'Jack. Although ya know... that would be a fun game," Sideswipe said with a large grin. "We could call it 'Tease the Medic' and hand out points, make a betting pool. The winner after the end of a deca-cycle keeps a portion of the winnings."

In his past life, Sideswipe had been a business man. And he'd been a very good business man. His processors whirred with the possibilities the scenario presented. "Think if we offered Ratchet a portion of the money he wouldn't try to kill the contestants?" 

"He'd never try to KILL anybody," Blue pointed out. "He'll just hit, and hit hard. But, maybe… it'd be a nice gesture to give him some of the chips so he could stack them for supplies." Bluestreak was inherently a gentle, mellow soul, and he had a deep respect for medics. 

"Now, I gave the car the destination, we'll hopefully land there and get picked up by the others. So sit back and relax." He started the engine and the car started out with a nice speed, following the rails that connected practically every destination on Cybertron with every other. 

"You know, Sides, that roleplaying idea doesn't sound too bad..." the gunner pondered as he leaned back in his seat. "Though I doubt Sunny would be up for it, which is a pity, because I could think of a few things he'd be perfect for..." 

Sideswipe snorted. "Sunny's hardly up for anything that he didn't come up with first." He leaned forward, smiling. "Although now you intrigue me. What's that corrupted little CPU of yours thought up, Blue?" 

The gunner blushed. "I uhh, well, you know about Thalorean pleasure slaves...? That was one. Then, he could be just his adorable self, all vain and arrogant, and we could talk to his spark. Or, he would make a fine Decepticon lord, who captures Autobots for special purposes... Or, he could be..." He shivered. "Prowl..." 

Sideswipe's smile grew, as did the mischievous glint in his optics. "Hmm, an' what'd he do to you Blue? As his little pleasure slave, or his Autobot captive, or," Sideswipe purred as his tongue rolled his r's, "His naughty little prisoner?" 

The young gray mech grinned like a village glitch. "W-well, he'd cuff my hands, because I'm a prisoner after all. Then, he'd tell me what I did wrong and ask me if I regretted it. And then, regardless of my answer, he'd hit me... Not to badly of course, it's just a game... And make me do things, like... lick him and kiss him, all over his body, then he'd force me up against the wall and call me unworthy and a bad mech and whatnot and interface with me quickly and roughly." 

"Mmm," Sideswipe's engine rumbled as he savored the image. "Bet he'd have you crawl around on your hands and knees. Maybe use your tongue on his plug.

"What'd I be doing Blue? Watching? Or do I get to be part of the act too?" 

Bluestreak leaned closed, lowering his head on his friend's - lover's - shoulder. "You could just watch and play with yourself, or you could be a Con interrogator, or the other prisoner. And then, Sunny could force us to do it with each other for his entertainment. Plugging in without hands… that'd be tricky! Or we could both be his pets and he'd take us into his lap and feed us energon candy and pet us. C-can you imagine the look on his faceplates...?" 

Sideswipe smiled. "Ooooh yeah. The little tilt to the corners of his lips he gets, with his optics just screaming 'I've got you right where I want you', pinning you in place with just that look. And his voice. Can you imagine his voice Bluestreak?" 

"Ooooh, yes, I can, I so can, all deep and a touch rough and still smooth like warm oil cake...!" the gunner whimpered. He rose a bit, tugging at his friend's arm. "Sides." His optics were burning, his lips slightly parted. "Sides, please. Now." He offered his mouth, his vocalizer emitting needy little sounds. 

"Thought you'd never ask." Sideswipe leaned over, capturing Bluestreak's mouth with his, quickly invading the warm cavern of the gunner's mouth with his own tongue. He carefully pulled Bluestreak into his lap, hands running up the younger mech's sides, towards his back until his fingertips were trailing over the gray doorwings mounted on Bluestreak's back.

His engine revved as his systems started to heat, arousal flooding his CPU. 

The wings quivered and twitched, almost leaning into the touch. Blue whined as he threw his head back, offering sleek struts and pulsing cables on his throat. "S-Sides..." he moaned shakily. "You're injured, I don't want to-" 

"Don't worry about it Blue, don't ya know? Pleasure always overrides pain. Especially when I've got your pretty face to look at," Sideswipe purred. He tilted his head up, giving Bluestreak's chevron a long, slow lick. His hands glided along the doorwings until reaching their base, kneading the joints there with careful and sure fingertips.

The gunner gasped and shivered, the wing-joints were one of his most sensitive spots. His optics were blinking, and his trembling fingers began to trace Sideswipe's black helm. 

"W-we're crazy…" he groaned. "We're doing it in a tube line car, Sides, you don't want to do this properly, right, say you don't; it's totally not safe…!"

Sideswipe chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating through their frames. "Where's your sense of adventure, Blue? And you know you ~waaaant iiiiit."

He kept playing with the wing joints. Then he lightly nipped at Bluestreak's chevron, soothing with a quick flick of his tongue. "You're so hot Blue, and you make me feel just as hot." His engine rumbled again, his spark pulsing in arousal.

"You're gonna kill me Sides," Bluestreak whined, arching into the touches. "You're so gonna be the reason for my deactivation and I'd probably thank you, dear Primus, just what have you done to me? Why can I absolutely not resist either you or Sunny, you glitches… shameless, beautiful glitches...!" His intakes hitched and he rubbed at his lover's chestplate, where he knew the panel was hiding. 

Sideswipe’s interface panel swung open with a soft click, the red twin letting out a small groan of appreciation for the freedom of his interface unit. "Long as we all go together, I can live with it," he couldn't help but joke.

"And ya know, it's hard not to want to sex up the sweetest, most adorable, lovely mech in the whole army," Sideswipe added, with each compliment kissing a part of Bluestreak's head. "Open up for me, Blue. Let's make a connection."

"S-s-stupid mech..." Blue whispered but he obeyed immediately, groaning as his panel slid back. His cable popped out, practically begging to be taken and plunged into an interface port. And since ports were conveniently the size of an average mech's finger, the gray gunner decided to get payback for all the teasing and jabbed his finger into his lover first.

Sideswipe let out a startled cry at the unexpected invasion. Well, okay he had expected an invasion, just not that kind of invasion. "Primus Blue," Sideswipe whimpered, shivering at the finger wriggling in his port and sending little sparks of pleasure running through his systems from the sensitive unit.

His hands curled around Bluestreak's wings, not even able to think about retaliating, or even just plugging in like he'd intended.

Bluestreak grinned. It pleased him with no end that he had learned little trick, which could surprise his friends now and then. He pushed his finger in slowly, then pulled it out, tracing the sensitive circuitry inside; it felt so strange, so intimate, to touch another so deeply. 

He leaned closer, pressing his lips against the red twin's, sneaking his glossa past them, mimicking the motion of his finger.

Sideswipe writhed under Bluestreak's ministrations. It wasn't often that the younger mech decided to take control of their activities, but honestly, Sideswipe rather liked when he did. Bluestreak could just be so... creative, and his sweet gentleness always shone through. Sideswipe opened his mouth further, inviting the glossa further in.

One of his hands left Bluestreak's doorwing as it came up to stroke the gray mech's helm. His fingers ended up tracing the bright red chevron as his hand stroked the broad side of Bluestreak's doorwing.

Blue moaned loudly and removed his finger - enough teasing for now. He was hot, his vents sucking in cool air and spitting out warm with every pulse of his spark. He took Sideswipe's cable and jabbed it into himself, twitching at the sensation, then plugged himself into his lover, too. 

"Sides... yes. Now. Quickly."

Sideswipe groaned at the connection as he sent his first data stream into Bluestreak's frame. Energy coursed through the link, going through to Blue, back to him, back to Blue.

"Yes, yes, yes, feel so good Blue," Sideswipe chanted, moaning against his lover's lips. His intakes were heavy, systems straining with the arousal and heat building up between them. "So beautiful, so sweet, so mine," Sideswipe panted, holding Bluestreak closer to him as he pulled the gunner into another searing kiss.

Interfacing was the only thing that was able to shut the gunner up; of course, he was vocal even then, but at least the freezing coldness of fear and insecurity melted away in the surges heat, the warmth of two frames pressing against him from both sides. He could let go of the guilt he felt; for a few minutes, he was sure somebody cherished him, loved him, that somebody cared, and he was not accused of anything. The darkness melted away in the bright light sorting out his optics; his spark fluttered and he was well. 

Blue responded to the impulses with the same intensity, rapidly nearing his release.

The energy built up in his frame and Sideswipe could feel his climax approaching. He moaned and arched into the frame seated on him, petting and kissing Bluestreak. His fingers found the doorwing joints again, running along them and teasing them.

His love for the beautifully sparked young mech perched in his lap only fueled his arousal and his engines revved again in anticipation. He could feel their mingling systems building up for the crash... up... up... and then overload crashed into him like hitting the ground face first, only so much better as he moaned into Bluestreak's mouth and held onto the young gunner for all he was worth.

The gray mech was not far behind; as the last impulses of Sideswipe's release faded, he threw his head back and screamed, his voice echoing off the smooth walls. His body arched back, struts creaking from the pressure; he twitched once, twice, then slumped forward, resting his head on his lover's shoulder. 

"I love you," he whispered, voice laced with static, his optics dim from the overwhelming experience.

Sideswipe leaned back, arms loosening their tight hold on Bluestreak until he was gently hugging the young mech. "Love ya too, Pretty Blue," Sideswipe said softly, using his favorite pet name for his lover. In the quiet peace of post interface, Bluestreak always seemed to love those kind of small indications of affection, and Sideswipe was always happy to give him everything he wanted.

"One day, I'm going to give you my spark," the gunned murmured, obviously still not fully conscious. Showing off one's spark to another was the utmost sign of love and trust. Only sparkbonding went beyond it, but in wartime, that was something to be avoided. Bonded sparks had the tendency of not surviving each other's termination.

Sideswipe stilled for a moment, then he remembered how to move again. His arms hugged Bluestreak just a little bit tighter as he nuzzled the top of the gray helm.

"Ah, Blue. I'd give you Cybertron and all its moons if I had the power... Guess I'll just have to settle for saving my own spark for ya too."

Several minutes passed; the wind from the motion cooled their frames effectively. By the time the car signaled that they were nearing their destination, Blue was sitting properly at his place, fingers laced with his lover's. He had contacted the base; a small team was dispatched to fetch them and properly treat Sides' wound.


	3. Hopes and Wishes

Another mission, another base; the mechs were getting used to it. The war raged on and they were not simple soldiers anymore, but trusted, strong officers, even if still lower in rank but officers nonetheless.

Currently, they were waiting for one of the local officers who'd escort them to their place and brief them quickly about the current situation. The hangar was busy; engineers, medics and fliers - those few the Autobots had - came and went, carrying supplies and doing maintenance. 

Hound was sitting on a crate, showing off a little holographic image he had tinkered with in the past few orns to his blue and white friend. It was a little cybercat scratching, stretching and bouncing – all the little things cybercats normally did.

The Spark Twins and Bluestreak occupied another huge box, Sunstreaker dividing his attention between the gun he was polishing and the green and blue mechs opposite them.

Mirage smiled at the hologram's antics. "You're very talented, Hound. It looks realistic enough to pet," Mirage said, as he brushed his fingertips though the holo-cybertcat. He looked up at the scout, grin turning playful. "And very cute, much like his maker."

Over their time together, Mirage had grown steadily closer to the team; Sideswipe and Bluestreak were good friends, and Hound... well, he was becoming rather fond of Hound. Perhaps even a relationship with the scout was in the near future.

"I never had pets, because we traveled a lot," Hound said, "But once we stayed on a miner colony for a while, and the director who housed us had one. I played with it a lot... though first time, I wasn't careful enough and I pulled its tail and of course it clawed me. But we still became friends, somewhat." 

He watched the animal repeat the sequence. "I'm glad you like it. I think I'm getting better, and it's partly thanks to you. Your explanations helped a lot." He smiled at Mirage fondly. The young aristocrat accepted him as he was and never made him feel inferior. 

"Aren't they just cute..." Sunstreaker murmured on the other side, barely audibly, still furiously polishing his gun.

Oblivious to Sunstreaker's feelings, Mirage couldn't help giving Hound another found smile. "I had a few of my own as a youngling. My favorite was this sweet little femme cybercat. Every night I'd go into recharge and she would curl up right beside me and stay with me the entire night," Mirage recounted fondly. He sighed and smiled at the tracker.

"You know Hound, before I met you, I didn't like talking about my life before the war. Now I can talk about it without feeling quite so sad." He reached out, taking the scout's black painted hand. "I'm happy I made a friend who could give me such pleasant company."

"Told you I was going to make you trust me!" Hound beamed and squeezed Mirage's hand, dismissing the holo image. "I feel at ease with you, too... Friendships really are the best things to pull through this war, aren't they?" He looked at their hands. "Even if they're a bit risky, it's better to have it then lose it than never have it at all."

Mirage smiled, squeezing the hand in his, and he began to quote a poem on a soft voice.

"Although with loss comes pain,  
Without love we have nothing in life,  
Living is not living if there nothing to live for,  
I'd rather love a hundred times and lose those hundred loves,  
If only so I may know a moments joy in love."

Mirage had recited the lines from memory; it was a favorite of his, and had become especially meaningful after his night spent with Sunstreaker. Because truly, despite the pain of a loss, he wanted to keep opening his spark and know even temporary happiness rather than remain alone and miserable.

"It's beautiful...!" Hound's optics grew wider. "I've never had the time to dwell deeper into literature... Can you recommend a few pads?"

Before the spy could have answered, another voice rose, the tone carrying just a touch of mocking.

"I will cross a hundred burning bridges for your sweetest smile  
I will find the brightest star to lay before your feet;  
But to climb the walls you raised I would need pair of wings to fly  
So I'll better walk away that we will never meet."

Sunstreaker's smile was a bit challenging. "Good poetry is a treasure, you're right, Hound. Mirage will surely guess right about your taste and give you the most fitting things to read."

Mirage sidled a cool stare at Sunstreaker.

"I met a mech and fell in love;  
Class, beauty, and brains to share.  
I could not help but stop and stare  
As he strutted around the room like a prize turbohound.  
Our night of love was passionate and loud.  
If only I had known,  
As I rose on the morrow,  
That the beauty of the frame can lie  
And leave you with nothing but an ugly truth.  
For all his looks,  
This mech was cold and cruel,  
As he left me confused and alone on my berth  
With nothing more than a systems virus."

Mirage gave one last cold smile to Sunstreaker before turning back to Hound. "Perhaps once we've all settled in our new quarters, I can offer a few of the literary pads I have. A few of them have some lovely short stories as well."

The golden twin's optics were burning as he stared at Mirage, his fingers curling up to fists. How DARE the little glitch say that?! He seriously wanted to bash in those white faceplates. Carrying a system virus was an energon-boiling insult. 

"I used to find Cloudrun's 'Loveless Night' ending a bit crude. But I've come to appreciate that sometimes, beauty and class aren't everything. Someone who’s kind sparked and loving means far more in the long run. And honestly, class is lost on a mech if he refuses to use it," Mirage explained to Hound, tone light.

He didn't realize how good it would feel to tell Sunstreaker off. Served the mech right for treating Hound like something he'd stepped in.

"And don't forget about Skyfall's 'Berthfellows'," Sunstreaker hissed. "One can learn a lot from it, now can't he?" He grinned maliciously. "Mirage liked that particular story. A lot." 

Bluestreak started to sense something: namely, the heat radiating from the golden frame. It alarmed him. Hound blinked at the spy with an amused, questioning look. He’d never heard that title before. 

Mirage had nothing to retort, looking at his lap as his systems heated in shame. "...Sometimes, tastes can change."

Sideswipe gave Sunstreaker a calculating look. He'd known that his brother had taken a number of lovers to his berth, and had always felt a special pride in any Towerling he could bed. He studied Mirage. Could the young spy have been one of Sunstreaker's exploits?

The air grew tenser by the nano-klik. Bluestreak was shifting uncomfortably, whining soundlessly. 

Fortunately, the officer they were waiting for finally appeared. "Greetings, young officers," he said cheerfully. "Welcome to the base. My name is Inferno, and I'll be your leader while you're stationed here. Let's not waste any time, you must be tired from the long trip. I'll take you to your quarters, show you the washracks and pass you the rules. Don't be surprised by the size of the file, there's a lot of them. Our Security officer takes his job very seriously. We tend to overlook the unnecessary ones but you didn't hear that from me." He winked playfully. "Follow me."

Hound hopped off from the crate and courteously offered his hand to Mirage, even though the spy was more than capable of climbing off. But Hound learned well. 

Sunstreaker jumped down as well, with considerably more flair than necessary. He even made sure the lights bounced off his armor properly. Needless to say, it got him some attention; a few of the mechs working nearby were watching him for a while, anyway.

Mirage took Hound's hand, smoothly sliding off the crate he was seated on and landing soundlessly.

Sideswipe and Bluestreak both hopped off the crate they'd been sharing with Sunstreaker, Sideswipe stepping between his brother and their two teammates as he greeted Inferno. "Nice to meet ya Inferno. You need introductions, or did they already think to warn you guys all about me and my cohorts?"

Inferno laughed. He had a nice laugh, jovial and soft, like rich energon. "They passed on your files, too, so I think I know you already a bit. Mirage, Hound, Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, right?" He pointed out each mech he named. "The rumors weren't exaggerated."

"Rumors?" Mirage asked curiously. "There are rumors about us? I can imagine Sideswipe's reputation would precede him; he's seemed to make it his mission in life to make the rest of ours full of humor and misery. An odd contrast, I know, but somehow he manages to accomplish it," Mirage said with good humor as he cast an amused look at Sideswipe.

Sideswipe put a hand to his chassis as though hurt. "Why you gotta do that to me 'Raji? Why? Haven't I treated you well?"

Bluestreak coughed as though to clear his systems, the words 'glitter incident' discernable to the surrounding mechs.

Inferno kept on laughing. "It's probably because I've talked to Jazz - he knows everything about everybody, even the brand of polish they use. He told me that Mirage and Hound are excellent with holos, he mentioned Sideswipe's antics, Bluestreak's fast-paced style and Sunstreaker's beauty." He winked at the golden warrior. "He said I should warn everybody to keep their sparks under pass and firewall unless they're prepared to loose it to you." 

Sunstreaker's optics lit up and he tossed his head, Mirage's previous insults forgotten by the open flattery. "What can I say? An artist has to be a piece of art himself!"

Sideswipe groaned, covering his optics with a hand. "Great, now we get to endure Sunshine's preening for the next vorn."

Inferno's merriment seemed to be permanent by now. He kept on smiling the whole way, only stopping to introduce a few important mechs to the team. He showed them the spacious cleaning area, the common rooms and finally, their own rooms. One for three mechs, and one for two - they didn't have more to spare. 

"I hope it won't cause problems," Inferno said. “Settle down, rest a bit, and in two megacycles sharp, you'll be summoned to the command room to be briefed and supplied with further information. Be on time, you all." With that, he left them. 

Sideswipe turned to give Bluestreak a leering grin. "You wanna room with me and Sunny, Blue? We can let the two new lovebirds share the other room," Sideswipe suggested.

"We aren't lovebirds, Sideswipe," Mirage protested, face heating in embarrassment. "Although I do see the advantages to your suggested living arrangements."

"Yeah, you can leave your audio receptors online for once," Sunstreaker said, and targeted the bigger room. "Housing arranged. Let's rest. I might even take a shower in a bit. Slagging roads..." his voice faded to a grumble as he advanced further in. 

Hound looked at Bluestreak. "How can you get along with him...?" He was not accusing, just genuinely clueless. "He can be such a glitch...!"

Bluestreak shrugged, smiling. "He's not always that bad. He can have his good moments. And he does care, he just never shows it. I guess he's gotten used to not letting anyone know what he can really be like."

"I'll just believe you, pal," Hound smiled and patted Blue's shoulder. "Rest well until the meeting. Mirage?"

"We should get settled. Perhaps I could show you my literary pads once we've unpacked?" 

"That would be great!"

Inside the other room, Sunstreaker promptly grabbed his brother and plunged his glossa into his red counterpart's mouth deeply and passionately. Bluestreak's optics nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight; the twins presented a beautiful show every time they indulged in anything together - and not just sexual activities. Sparring, practicing, even a simple recharge made them look beautiful, probably because of the striking contrast and similarity they had.

Sideswipe moaned into the kiss, optics shutting off as he concentrated on the glossa-battle for dominance Sunstreaker had initiated. His hands moved up to grip his yellow twin's shoulders.

He recognized this for what it was: possessive, dominant interface. Whatever, he liked getting laid.

However, the passion this time was not allowed to run free - Sunstreaker had other things in mind. He pushed his twin away and shook himself. "I'll leave my jetpack here, along with the guns, and go take a shower. Anybody's welcome to join in, though." He smirked, and his smirks usually meant things. 

Sideswipe shared a look with Bluestreak. The two quickly formed the unanimous decision to follow after the yellow twin into the showers.

***

"I'm gonna tear off his cocky head...!" Sunstreaker was still fuming. "Security cameras. In the WASHRACKS! What the frag is his malfunction??" At the end of the briefing the security officer, Red Alert, asked them sternly to never again attempt to engage into anything intimate in the shower stalls, unless they wanted to spend a few orns in solitary confinement or scrubbing said washracks clean. In a way, he was worse than Prowl; Prowl didn't have his optics all over the base all the time. You could avoid him if you were smart. But Red Alert? Sunstreaker caught himself glancing around nervously, expecting to spot a camera in their quarters as well. 

"I don't think he's got any in here Sunstreaker," Bluestreak piped up from his seat on his berth. Sideswipe sat across from the gunner, playing a strategy game with him.

"Though it would be kinky," Sideswipe said with a grin.

Sunstreaker shook his head and took a deep intake of air. "Yeah, he probably just wants to keep us on our toe plating. Meh, you two enjoy your game... I'll go to the common room and socialize." 

Sideswipe flicked his wrist in a good-bye. "See ya latter, Sunny- Yes! I win!"

The red twin jumped off the berth, doing a little victory dance.

For a moment, Sunstreaker stood in the door watching his brother making an utter fool of himself, and Bluestreak, instead of scowling, congratulating him. The golden twin smiled, a rare, real smile, then left, targeting the common area Inferno had shown them. 

While it was sparkwarming to watch how well they got along, deep inside Sunstreaker couldn't help but feel left out. It wasn’t that he didn't crave another's presence, to share secrets and thoughts and heat... He’d just been put through too much and it changed him, made him cold and suspicious of everybody. 

 

Mirage sat with Hound in the common room, discussing the literary pads set between them. "That is an interpretation of 'Nightscape' that I have never heard before, but it fits quite well. Even better than most of the theories I've heard." Mirage sighed in lament. "If only the writer hadn't been anonymous; I'd love to know what their original intent with the piece was."

Hound nodded. "I don't know why anybody would remain hidden from the world and not claim the glory for such a wonderful work. It's so beautiful, the words just... they're perfect! It's so simple and yet so lovely and lively, and it can be interpreted so many ways...!" The scout was obviously awed. He had seen some of Cybertron's culture, but those were old tales shared around the heater in the miner barracks, or songs the miner’s used to sing for work or celebration. 

Mirage shook his head, shrugging. "It is a mystery," he replied. At the sight of Sunstreaker entering the room he added smoothly, "I suppose some artists are just too embarrassed by some of their past works and exploits to ever acknowledge them as they properly should."

"True, true," the golden twin replied immediately. A few mechs present looked up. "Some are even known to destroy their earlier creations if they feel they'll shed a bad light on their current career."

"Figuratively and literally, I suppose," Mirage mused, turning to a literary pad and skimming it. He hated how Sunstreaker could do this to him. Make him need to compensate for the hurt he felt by being as mocking to the yellow warrior as he could. In his defense, Sunstreaker usually started it.

"Smart little Tower mech," Sunstreaker walked closer with a smile and gently patted Mirage's helm, then strolled further in; a couple of mechs were already inviting them to their tables. 

A yellow minibot stepped up to Mirage, looking up at him. "You're really from the Tower...? The Iacon Tower?"

Oh Primus, he was going to kill Sunstreaker. The moment anyone ever found out where he came from, almost the entire base made some sort of opinion of him. From thinking he was too spoiled to ever be a proper soldier, to automatically just hating him for being from the towers since most of the Autobots were from the lower classes. Some had even accused him of not being a true Autobot because of the reports of Towers inhabitants picking up arms against their own after the Decepticon invasion.

"...Yes," Mirage said lowly, turning a glare at Sunstreaker's back.

"Would you tell me about it?" the minibot pleaded with huge sparkling optics. On second glance, he was small for even a minibot; probably still had some too-thick plating. "I'm Bumblebee... My Creator, Glasshard, was from Iacon Tower, and he sometimes told me about it..." His expression saddened and he clicked twice. "But I'd like to know more... "

Hound smiled at the little yellow one. "Hey now, no need to click. Come here." He opened his arms and the sparkling slowly, hesitantly drew closer.

Mirage's spark went out to the little yellow youngling. "What would you like to know?" he asked softly. "There's much to tell."

The sparkling eventually settled down in Hound's lap and squinted up at them when the scout dropped a kiss on the top if his yellow helm. "Well, Glasshard told me about pretty places there... and places where there were a lot of pretty things, like museums and exi... esci... exhibitions." He shook his head; indeed he was young, if he had to fight with his vocalizer at times. "I've never seen anything like that..."

Mirage smiled fondly in memory. "The art galleries of Iacon were one of my favorite places to attend. Paintings, sculptures, holos... The exhibitions were most entertaining, so many interesting people to meet; that’s when you were sure to meet some of the artists as well.

"You would be offered the finest refreshments, and could chat up some of the most intellectual and talented Cybertron had to offer. My own father threw quite a few (parties and arranged exhibitions. He loved surrounding himself with others who appreciated art as much as he did and would only accept the most stunning works into his galleries. 

"The museums themselves would be just as beautiful as the art they contained. One of my favorite to visit was painted with a type of paint that altered its color from different view points. From one spot it could be this lovely violet shade, then as you took steps around it morphed to indigo, to cobalt, or even this beautiful scarlet.

"There was another, I recall, with a scaled to size, miniature replica of the Helix Gardens. Actually, that entire museum was filled with miniature replicas of known places; the detail the sculptors put into their creations was amazing."

There were a few sighs around; either the mechs appreciated art, or were just saddened by the loss of so much beauty. Hound offlined his optics and tried to imagine the bustling life full of many things he never knew - and he probably never would. 

The sparkling's optics were wide with awe. "It sounds so pretty... I wish I could have seen it." He looked down at his small hands resting on the arm Hound was using to hold him. "Do you think that maybe, after the war ends, there will be places like that again?"

Mirage didn't hesitate in his answer. "Yes, as long as there are 'bots to make it, there will be beautiful places on Cybertron again. Not all of the artists are gone; if they wish, perhaps they will once more create the wonderful works that so many loved them for."

"It would be so cool to be an artist..." the sparkling mused. "But I won't be one. I have to grow up and I'll become a scout, maybe an intelligence officer." He whirred and shifted in Hound's arms, his optics dimming a little. 

The door opened and a slender blue femme walked in; she quickly shot a glance around and smiled as he spotted little Bumblebee in the scout's lap. 

"Even if you don't choose to be an artist, it doesn't hurt to still want to create something. It's really as simple as taking a medium and using it to put into reality what's in your CPU," Mirage replied. "Some are just better at it than the rest of us," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Alright, that should be enough for today." The femme walked closer and gently took the sparkling from Hound. "It's time to recharge, lovely." She nodded to the scout and Mirage as well. 

Bumblebee flailed a bit, flashing a smile at the spy. "Thank you for telling me a story," he said politely, then whirred again and snuggled closer to the femme's chest.

Mirage stared after the femme and Bumblebee until they'd disappeared from sight. "Charming youngling," he said lightly with a soft smile.

"But he's just a sparkling...!" Hound sighed. "He's living at a military base and already knows he'll grow up to be a soldier. That's cruel." 

"There isn't much choice, is there, Hound? We can either fight, or we die. He has no other option, I'm afraid," Mirage replied.

"But if there wasn't be a war, he would," the scout said quietly. "War takes away our choices; it forces us to do things we absolutely loathe." He looked up at the spy. "It is our responsibility to stop this war. So the future sparklings will have a choice."

"Yes," Mirage agreed with a short nod. "No one should have their lives picked out for them when they are too young to choose for themselves."

Hound nodded and slowly slipped his hand over Mirage's. "Well then. Let's do something about that war. Tomorrow's going to be a long day, and we traveled a lot; let's go recharge. Though... Maybe you could read me another poem before we shut off? Something soothing."

Mirage smiled, nodding. "I'd love to, Hound."


	4. Murder Mine

As he stood alone in the wash racks, Mirage let warm spray of the showerhead he was under ease the tension of his frame. He'd recently returned from a long mission and was caked in dirt, grime, soot and other things he didn't dare contemplate.

Jazz had been considerate enough to allow him to go to clean himself off before filing his report. As soon as the pad-work was done, Mirage intended to have one very long recharge.

It was nice to be back at base and be able to let his guard down once more. 

The rushing sound of distillosol, and the feeling of the warm, thin, oily substance trickling down his frame, loosening all the filth was soothing, relaxing and more than welcomed; it lulled Mirage into a pleasant daze. He didn't notice the footsteps behind him and couldn't feel the burning optics roaming over his frame. 

But he noticed the strong arms curling around his waist, and the firm chassis he was pulled back against.

"Mind if I join...?" a sultry voice whispered into his audios. 

Mirage automatically broke out of the hold Sunstreaker had pulled him into, whirling on the warrior and leveling a distrustful glare at the yellow mech. He backed up a few steps, feeling the wash rack's walls against his back.

"What do you think you're doing, Sunstreaker?" Mirage asked, trying not to let on how shaken the contact had left him, and not entirely in a bad way either. 

The golden twin shrugged, spreading his arms with an innocent look. "Sparing with the cleaning solution...? You weren't always this jumpy, Mirage... Especially lately. In fact, you seemed to be with ease with your comrades." He took a step forward, letting the warm spray drench his front, making his perfect paintjob shine wetly. "I can brush your back." 

"Not sure how wise it would be to turn my back on you," Mirage snubbed. "And I think I have reason to be a bit jumpy. I did just come back from a mission. You try being having to sneak around invisible and hope no 'Cons discover you." 

"You don't trust me," Sunstreaker stated, advancing further forward. "That's funny. Nobody trusts me and nobody trusts you. One would think, that'd bring us closer. If nothing else would..." 

Mirage slid along the wall, trying to keep distance between him and Sunstreaker. "Why should I trust you? Ever since we met up again you've only played mind games with me. First you seem pleased to see me, then you make a fool of me in front of our teammates and act like we've never met. You taunt and ridicule me, humiliate me, and tease me like some sparkling dangling a toy before a cybercat.

"Tell me Sunstreaker, what reason should I have to trust you?" Mirage hissed, bristling like the cybercat he had compared himself too. 

Two fists slammed against the wall, effectively trapping the more slender spy between them. Sunstreaker leaned closer. "Smart little Towerling. No, you don't have a reason to trust me. After all, what's an insignia...? Maybe I do have a purple one beneath it, if you scratch the surface." His optics were blazing. "And let's not forget about the insults and jabs YOU were throwing at me since the orn we met! Do you think I've forgotten one of them? Especially that sweet little poem you recited once? I'm fed up with you, Mirage! Completely and utterly fed up! Do you think you've been behaving any differently? Shamelessly flirting with Hound and throwing me glances all the while?" 

"You spurned _me_ first, Sunstreaker," Mirage replied, hurt hinting in his voice even as he leveled his own fiery look at his old lover. "I would not have hesitated to be with you again if you had merely invited me, instead you- you-" Mirage sputtered for the right words. "You treated me like some companion of the night and acted as though we'd ever had something in the first place!" 

"Oh, dear Primus...!" The artist mocked. "We DID have something? Other than a night?" And he pounced on Mirage's lips, forcefully claiming them for himself; the kiss was hot, possessive and charged with energy. The golden frame ground against the white-blue one and the fine but strong hands pressed against the elbow-joints, the golden fingers rubbing the sensitive metal with just the right amount of pressure. 

A whimper escaped Mirage's vocalizer and into Sunstreaker's mouth as the warrior pleasured the sensitive joints of his arms. Quickly regaining his bearings, Mirage turned his head to the side and protesting, "Sunstreaker, no. Stop!" 

"Wasn't this what you wanted?" the artist hissed, giving the neck struts a long lick. "You've wanted me... don't deny it! You're still after me, no matter who you fool around with! You never forgot me... Stupid little aristocrat...! Never able to get over anything... never able to let go!" 

"Not like this!" Mirage gasped, shivering in the hold. "I didn't want it like this."

So long he'd yearned for Sunstreaker's touch, even after all the hateful words they'd exchanged he'd still wanted him. And now he had him, well, actually it was quite the other way around, wasn't it? But he'd wanted Sunstreaker's love more than he'd ever wanted his body, he could have been an ugly wretch and Mirage would still want him.

But not this dominating, aggressive, angry beast.

"Let go of me now Sunstreaker! I don't want you like this," Mirage said, voice hopefully more authority than he felt. 

Aside Sideswipe, nobody knew, what was inside Sunstreaker's spark. Nobody had an idea about how much darkness, fear and doubt were swirling inside him; that doubt was eating him alive, it was the only thing pressing him forward to do well, better, better than anybody else. He desperately wanted to prove that he has some worth. 

His beauty, he was sure about that. His finely crafted chassis always got him compliments, and Sunstreaker needed those compliments. But whenever he failed something or so the thought... The darkness lashed out and threatened with consuming him. He usually found sanctuary in his brother's arms then; Spark Twins couldn't lie to each other, and Sunstreaker never saw an ounce of doubt in Sideswipe. 

But right now, he was called unwanted. Worthless. Repelling. His spark was twisting in its casing, His hands began to shake; and his burning blue optics filled with an unimaginable pain. His emotions were reeling; the thought he'll just collapse on the spot. But his body was strong; it held its ground. 

"So you don't." Sunstreaker whispered, staring right into Mirage's optics. "I'm not good enough for you anymore, right, Towerling...?" 

Mirage was cycled air quickly, optics starting to return to their normal hue as he and Sunstreaker exchanged unflinching stares. "It's too late Sunstreaker. I'm with Hound, and I'm happy. He makes me happy, you just leave me confused and alone. You always have." 

The golden fingers tightened on an elbow joint until the plating cracked. The artist's vents were howling, and his optics had darkened with rage and hatred. His other hand grabbed Mirage's white chin, denting the plating. 

"You son of a glitch!" Sunstreaker growled. "How you dare to accuse me?! I told you how things were, I lay with you, I broke your Primus-damned seal, fraggit! I was honest back then, and now, you turn it against me?! Well, it's your slagging fault, not knowing what you want!" 

And he was on Mirage again like a plasma storm, kissing, biting, hands attacking sensitive joints forcefully. 

Mirage cried out, struggling under the hold, thrashing in Sunstreaker's tight grip. The pain was overriding the previous pleasure, his arousal being consumed by fear. In a desperate attempt to break out of his grasp, Mirage slammed his heel on the yellow warrior's in-step, hard enough to dent. 

Sunstreaker cried out and grabbed Mirage hard, flinging him around, right against the wall. Anger consumed him; all previous intentions to attempting anything gentle was forgotten and he leapt and pinned the spy to the ground where he had fallen. the golden hands curled around Mirage's neck with a tight grip, squeezing fuel lines and struts, cutting off intakes.

"I could have- We could have had something!" He yelled. "But no, you just want to be the pompous Towerling slagsucker, like all those glitches there!" 

Mirage struggled in the grip, hands flying up to Sunstreaker's and trying to pry them off. They scrabbled fruitlessly against the stronger grip. The edges of his vision started to dim as fuel ceased to reach his head, systems over heating as vents started to fail. His optics darted back to Sunstreaker, mouth opening just in the slightest, widened optics pleading with the enraged warrior not to do this as he felt his systems slowly start to shut off one-by-one. 

"Sunstreaker, NO!" A frightened yelp echoed across the room and somebody grabbed the golden warrior from behind, trying to pull him off of Mirage. "Security, to the washracks immediately!" Apparently, it was an alert spoken through the comm likes and the following stream of words identified the spy's savior as Bluestreak. "Sunny, no, please, why are you doing this, Mirage is our friend! Let him go, please, let him go and calm down, Sunny, listen to me!!" 

With the addition of Bluestreak pulling back at Sunstreaker, Mirage summoned the last of his waning strength, pushing back at the warrior, trying to break his hold around his neck. It loosened and he could feel a rush of fluid flood back to his head, vents sucking in a gulp of air and the black spots in his vision started to recede. 

Soon enough, running footsteps could be heard, and Ironhide, with two other mechs managed to drag the golden warrior off the spy. Ironhide was furious, he was yelling at Sunstreaker, demanding to know what kind of malfunction was gnawing at his brain module and promptly ordered the others to take the artist to the brig and lock him up. Most probably for everybody's surprise, Sunstreaker went along calmly, without a word or any resistance. 

Bluestreak kneeled down next to his friend and gathered him into his arms. "Are you aright, Mirage? Primus, I was so worried, what happened? Sunny is not this riled up normally, and he'd never beat up a teammate like that, what could have gotten into him? Is your neck alright? Nothing torn or broken? I'll take you to the medbay!" 

Mirage stared after where Sunstreaker had been taken, absently holding onto Bluestreak as he mentally tried to right his world. What had just happened?

He tried to speak, but his vocalizers just crackled with static and he shuddered in pain from the attempt. They must have been damaged when Sunstreaker had been choking him.

Hesitantly, Mirage looked over to Bluestreak, nodding gingerly as pain shot up his neck. 

Ironhide helped him to his feet with a worried look. "Go see Ratchet, kid; the sooner yer able to talk, the sooner we can figure out what the Pit's with Sunshine. He's in for some pretty severe punishment from Prime, that's fer sure! Now, go you two." 

Mirage got a sick feeling in his fuel tanks at the mention of Sunstreaker being punished. Perhaps it was foolish of him, but he didn't want anything bad happening to Sunstreaker. Underneath the rage, the yellow warrior's words had spoken of hurt. Mirage had never thought Sunstreaker could have been hurting over their animosity as much as he was.

Bluestreak led him from the wash racks, both subdued and brooding. 

The news spread fast; by the time Ratchet fixed the damage on Mirage's neck, not asking anything and not making comments, Hound was waiting just outside the door. 

"Prowl asked me to tell you that in three megacycles, he'd like to question you." he said quietly. Sunstreaker's in the brig, 'calming down' and Prowl put it; as soon as Prime returns, he'll be dealt with. Mirage..." He took the spy's hand gently, and looked at him, confusion and some fear flickering in his optics. "What... happened?"

Mirage looked at the floor, unsure how to answer because honestly- "I don't know. I think I... drove him to this. I think it's as much my fault for what's happened as his, maybe more because I knew, he told me-" He broke off, horror flooding his CPU.

"I-I held it against him. I always thought I had been holding my promise to him and myself that I would never allow my hurt to backlash on him." He couldn't hide the grief in his voice as he revealed information he'd never wanted anyone, especially Hound to know, but he couldn't stop the flood of words.

"How selfish and cruel I've been. I hurt him for giving me what I wanted and being unable to give more. I am a horrible glitch," Mirage finished, back away from Hound, his arms coming up to wrap around his frame. Sunstreaker's words were true, he'd thought he'd been in the wrong. Really, he'd wrong Sunstreaker just as much. 

Hound gently took the spy's arm and pulled him with. "I'll take you to our quarters. You'll sit down and calm down. I'll fetch you a cube. Come, Mirage."

He always had the suspicion something was going on between the two, and now, he wanted to know. He hoped Mirage will allow them to have something real on a day, and he wanted to protect the spy, and help him - and for that, he needed to know, _what_ to protect him from. 

Mirage knew as Hound ushered him to their quarters, he'd have to admit to his history with Sunstreaker, certainly to Prowl if there was any chance of beginning to repent for what he'd done to his old lover, and probably to Hound as well. After everything he'd put the scout through, he deserved the truth. 

He was pushed down unto the comfortable berth and Hound left him for a klik just to return with a small, warm cube. He placed it into the spy's hands and reached out to run a gentle thumb over the blue helm's vents. 

"'Raj... you don't have to tell. But I'd like to know, because I don't want this to happen again, and if I can prevent it..." He looked down. "You were... lovers, weren't you." 

Mirage looked down at his cube as he answered, "Yes. Although I suppose it's up for interpretation, we'd only had one night together." 

"Just one night?" Hound asked quietly. "They why are you both unable to let go...?" 

"He was my first. And I- I was in love with him, perhaps infatuated is a better term. I idolized him from the moment I discovered his art and nearly begged him to take me to his berth. He'd only had two conditions, that I hold no regrets for the night, and that I would find new love.

"I was able to fulfill the second, mostly. I've loved many mechs but only been in love with a handful. As you can tell, I... did not hold to my first promise to him." 

"So you feel bitter about letting him break your seal?" the scout inquired. He doubted that was the case. For a moment, his thoughts carried him back in time, to a miner colony... and to that nice old mech with many scratches on his armor and a missing optic. He knew the most wonderful tales ever, and despite the rough appearance, he was amazingly gentle with the young Hound, who was eager and adventurous back then, ready to piss off his creator... He remembered his father screaming from rage when he found out, and how the old mech only smiled and told him to ask his son if he had regrets. Hound bravely said that had none, that he understood what it meant and asked his father to accept this. And from that day, the tall, sturdy Hardrock never dismissed his son again with being too young. Sometimes, it was hard, but it taught Hound many lessons, and he still thought back to that night fondly. 

"No, the night was wonderful, and perfect. And I could have gone on with my life if I had never seen him again and just held it as a fond memory. Then we reunited and he... I was hurt by how he treated me. And I hurt him back for it." Mirage's vocals crackled with a static whine. "I loved him and-"

And I still do, was left unsaid because he could not dare hurt Hound with those words. 

The scout didn't need to hear it; he knew. It hurt; but he was ready to deal with it. He laced his dark fingers with the spy's. "I see. However, you have to make a decision now: what do you want to do? Obviously, this can't go on any longer. You two have to solve this situation." 

Mirage squeezed Hound's hand, sipping his energon before summoning his courage to speak again. "I-I don't know what I want. I wanted him, then he left and then he was back and then we hated each other but I couldn't stop thinking about him. Then I met you, and I care about you, Hound, I really do. You've been so patient and kind to me I could not have hoped to meet someone so... so wonderful. And even now I can't stop thinking about Sunstreaker and caring about him, and you deserve so much better than someone who still has his spark set on the past." 

The green mech smiled and carefully cupped his friend's head to pull him closer and give him a light, chaste kiss on the lips. "You and I, we're more alike than you think." he said. "I have a mech in my spark as well, and no matter what he does, I don't think I'll be ever able to cast him out from there. I love you, Mirage, and if you think, you can be happy with Sunstreaker, then please, go and be happy with him. But I can't make a decision for you. I know this is hard, to stand alone... but I'm not allowed to influence you." 

Could he repair the damage to his and Sunstreaker's relationship? He wasn't sure if it was possible. It certainly seemed like one of the most foolish things to do in the long history of stupid decisions.

"Maybe... I should speak with Sunstreaker. He's not in solitary, right?" 

"I don't know..." Hound shrugged, "and I'm not sure Prowl would let you... But on the other hand, he might. You should comm him and ask." 

Mirage nodded, turning on his comm and keying onto the Autobot Second in Command.

"Prowl, sir? It's Mirage, I have a request to make. I'd like to speak with Sunstreaker, if I may... Yes, yes, I'm quite aware of that, I know. I'd like to confront him on something he said to me. It's... private, sir. Yes, I am also aware of that, sir, I would probably say the same thing about myself if I were you. Yes, understood sir," Mirage said, shutting off the comm line. 

"Did he say yes? Want me to walk with you to the brig?" Hound asked softly. 

"I have one breem to speak with Sunstreaker, and if I exceed that time limit by even one astrosecond, he is having Ironhide carrying me out like a sack of scrap metal. And... I think I should go alone. But thank you for the offer Hound. Actually, thank you for everything," Mirage said, hugging his friend. "I hope you find someone that can love you more freely than I." 

The scout nodded. He didn't say anything; he didn't trust his vocalizer. He smiled weakly at the spy and patter his arm.

And as soon as Mirage was out of the room and the door slid shut behind him, Hound pressed a hand against his chestplate and offlined his optics. 

*

From the walk to the brigs, Mirage questioned his own sanity. He'd seen similar situations of mechs and femmes giving themselves to dangerous relationships like he was know, and could not have fathomed why they would do it. Why subject youself to the pain of such an unhealthy love?

He'd asked his dearly departed, rather eccentric, uncle, Lightbend. _"It's not insane being in love, it's love that makes you insane,"_ had been the older mech's words of wisdom. Mirage still hadn't understood, until now. Now that he was right outside Sunstreaker's cell, ready to talk to him. 

The golden warrior was curled up in a shadowy corner; only his burning optics were visible in the darkness, like some demon of the Pit. He didn't move he didn't speak, just stared intensely.

"Hello, Sunstreaker," Mirage said hesitantly, obviously the yellow twin was not going to be first to speak. 

"What do you want." The voice was calm and cold, frighteningly cold. 

"I'm... not sure. I came to speak with you." He knew this was not going to be easy, and he was going to have to be delicate in what he said. He didn't want to destroy all chances he had with repairing what they'd had. 

"Why bother...?" As if Sunstreaker had been reading his mind, he basically replied to the spy's thoughts. "We fragged it up. Go back to Hound and carry on your merry life. And leave me out of it." 

"Because... because I still love you, Sunstreaker," Mirage said in answer to the yellow mech's question. "As deeply as I care for Hound, and want to love him, I don't. Perhaps I could, but I loved you first, and I can't let you go." 

Sunstreaker moved; he uncurled himself and stood up, taking a step forward. "You're too attached to your delusions, Mirage. You don't love me. You're not able to love me. You said it yourself. Do something with your pretty white plating, because it's still way too thick."

He was not sure either, what he wanted. Well, he knew he wanted to be loved and appreciated and cherished by- hopefully everybody, but the golden twin would have sooner ripped out his own vocalizer than to say this out loud. 

Anger welled up in Mirage. "Why must you be such a stubborn aft! You say you want me, but the moment I approach you, you turn away. You're in here because you're too cowardly to accept anyone's love. What do I have to do, jump you and interface with you until you agree? Bare my spark? What? I've wanted to be with you ever since we met. Before it was a sparkling crush, then you broke my seal and I was hopelessly in love. I would have done anything to keep you with me, even left the towers, if I had thought you'd want me for more than one night.

"Either say you love me, or you don't. If you don't I'll never bother you again. If you do, stop acting like the fragging idiot you have and _tell me_. Do you honestly think loving someone could be worse than the pain you're putting yourself through in pushing it away?" 

"I only know what would be worse than anything." Sunstreaker was at the bars and curled his fingers around them. "Failing the one I love. I already know how that feels, and no, I'm not talking about you. I think I can understand why you were named Mirage: you're living for one. You do not love me; you just trying to convince yourself you do... maybe because it's such a nice, grown mech thing, to hold on for a dream... You've never learned to distinguish between the good dreams and the bad ones, did you?" He leaned even closer, looking into the other's optics. "You said it yourself: you cannot love me like this. You can't accept me as I am now. The Sunstreaker you've loved is dead, Mirage. He died while he was a Decepticon. Because I do have a purple insignia beneath the red one." 

For a moment, Mirage felt like he was in vertigo. He saw Flamestrike once more, ready to kill him for not wanting to join the faction that had destroyed their home and killed his family. Then Sunstreaker was himself again, not the- well the other mech who had tried to kill him.

"You're here now aren't you? How can you say the mech you were is dead when you're with the Autobots?" 

"He knew how to trust. He had hopes... he always said what was on his mind. I can't, not anymore." Sunstreaker offlined his optics. "The war took away many things... nothing is left from the mech you once admired. I'm a soldier now, not an artist. I'm cold and cruel and I like the war... I like to kill. Can't you see it, Mirage? It's over. What we had, is in the past." 

"You still draw, you still recite beautiful poetry, preen when you're complemented, put anyone speaking slag in their place. You still love, and so what if you enjoy killing? I've smiled myself at putting a Decepticon offline. And one day I'll find the ones who betrayed the Towers and my spark will sing with vengeance when they're dead too, _All_ of them." 

"Don't you understand, you stupid glitch??" Sunstreaker shouted. "I don't want to have to do anything with you! Guards! The femme wants to leave!" 

Ironhide, who'd been staying just out of audio range looked ready to come get Mirage. The spy was having none of it.

"Don't you dare, Ironhide! I'll come when I'm ready or when my time is up," Mirage shouted indignantly. He whirled back on Sunstreaker, optics fierce.

"Stop speaking for me as though you know what I want! I knew what I wanted when you took me to berth, and I know what I want now. I want you, and only you, as dysfunctional as you may be, for whatever your faults or your history I will still want you and if I have to spend the rest of my days loveless and alone with nothing other than my own hands for company to make you see I'll only have you or nothing, I will!"

Mirage felt ready to storm out, but wavered, hoping Sunstreaker would see the truth in his words. That he did still love him and would wait until they both offlined to be with him. 

Sunstreaker threw his head back and laughed. "That's awesome! You're more stupid than I even gave you credit for!" He grinned at the spy. "Oh, please, go ahead! Show me how much you love me: make yourself miserable for the rest of your life! It'll amuse everybody in the Autobot lines, and who knows, even the Deceptions would get wind of it... You'll be famous!" 

Mirage was hurt by his mockery, no matter what he said or did, all Sunstreaker could do was push him away.

"Are you in so much pain, Sunstreaker, that to fix it, making the ones that love you feel worse is the only solution? If it is, then I suppose you can laugh at me until you feel whole again, even if it doesn't ever happen." 

"Ironhide, I thought I still have some rights!" The golden twin called out to the security officer. "Where the frag is Prowl? This is my punishment, that I have to listen to this glitching for the next three orns or something? I thought we were the merciful ones here!"

The red mech walked in with a sigh. "Come Mirage, this is pointless. Leave Sunshine alone, let him be the bit-brain he wants to be." 

"Alright Ironhide, thank you for allowing me the time," Mirage said in resignation. Following the security officer away from Sunstreaker's cell. "Good bye, Sunstreaker." 

There was a pause, then a quiet voice. "Farewell, Mirage." 

Mirage couldn't help the small smile that flitted his lips. Perhaps there was hope after all.


	5. One More Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jump! I don't remember why we did it like this, but between the last and this chapter, some time has passed and stuff happened, like the Cons leaving, Optimus giving chase, the crashland, four million years and then some. XD The Autobots are on Earth now, some time after they awoke. Probably a year or two.

Mirage carefully slipped into the medbay behind Sideswipe, invisibility cloak on so none could see him. He stepped to the side of the sliding door to allow anyone else coming in or out to get by without unknowingly bumping into him. He kept by the wall as he watched Sideswipe walk over to one of the medical berths. His spark clenched in anxiety, seeing Sunstreaker's inert form laying offline on it. The yellow twin had very nearly met the Matrix from laser fire to the chest. The shot had narrowly missed his spark and instead broken two main fuel lines that had nearly bled him out on the battlefield.

Ratchet, bless the talented medic's spark, had staved off death for the twin once more. He could over hear the conversation Ratchet was having with Sideswipe, and apparently Sunstreaker wouldn't be awake until at least the next day. Then he went to check on his other patients.

Mirage quietly walked over to the pair, keeping out of Ratchet's way and settling once more against the wall beside Sunstreaker's berth and watched the twin. Bluestreak came by as well, keeping Sideswipe company and the two shared in their relief that Sunstreaker would be alright. Mirage remained silent and still, unnoticed even standing only a few paces away from them.

Hours later and Ratchet was getting ready to lock up the med bay. He'd shooed away visitors telling them they could see their injured friends tomorrow after they'd all gotten a night's recharge. Before stepping out of the room himself, Ratchet seemed to be waiting for something at the opened med bay door. "You need to leave as well Mirage, I want you to get some rest too. And don't be so surprised, I've been running scans in this room all day, of course I picked your energy signature up."

Hesitantly Mirage left the room, lightly brushing Ratchet's shoulder as he exited to tell the medic he was gone. 

The night passed quietly and by the time Sunstreaker came online in the morning, Ratchet was doing the last of the repairs on his patients. The golden warrior remained patiently on his berth until the medic walked up to him and disconnected the tubes from his chest and neck. 

"There you go," he told to Sunstreaker. "Take at least three cubes today, and don't get into trouble. By tomorrow, you'll be good as new. Though, I'd appreciate if you still refrained from getting into trouble."

"It doesn't really depend on me, you know," the golden twin scowled, inspecting the cosmetic damage on his chassis. "Who would save this unthankful lot's afts when the Cons attack if not me?"

Ratchet was merely nodding with a hint of a smile. "Sure, sure. Now go and catch up with the unthankful lot. Some of them were here yesterday to see you. I think one of them even wanted to stay here for a night but it's hard to fool a medic's scanners. Now, go, I have better things to do."

Sunstreaker walked out. He was sure his brother and most probably Bluestreak were there last day, but he also knew that as much as Sideswipe loved his brother, he'd rater spend the night with his equally distressed lover instead of leaving Blue alone just to recharge leaning on a medical berth. Somebody else had to be there, then... And as the warrior replayed Ratchet's words, it suddenly clicked. 

There was only one mech who would care and have the ability to attempt to escape Ratchet's sight. 

Mirage was in the commissary with some of the other soldiers, milling around and getting their daily ration of energon. He sat alone at a table, sipping his own cube. Hound was away on a two day mission, and Sideswipe and Bluestreak were still probably recharging, neither being much of early risers. The others mostly ignored him, and he was quite content with that arrangement.

Sunstreaker's enter prompted several reactions - the minibots suddenly realized it was time to rush off to do maintenance, Trailbreaker appeared unfazed, while Jazz and Wheeljack smiled at him and greeted him, Jazz offering a cube immediately. 

"Thanks," Sunstreaker nodded and took a sip. "And I'll need two more, Doctor's orders." Wheeljack laughed and called him lucky then said something about a new converter, which needed to be tested. A light conversation began about the topic, the three mechs listening to each other a lot more than the outside world. 

Mirage had discreetly watched Sunstreaker's entry and continued to as he talked with their friends. He still looked a little worse for wear, but far better than the death's door state of yesterday.

He finished his cube and stood taking it over to the energon dispenser Jazz, Wheeljack, and Sunstreaker were standing beside. As he deposited the empty container, glancing at Sunstreaker, he gave his own quiet regard, "It's good to see you well again, Sunstreaker." 

The golden warrior threw him a glance and flashed a rare, sweet smile at the spy. "Thanks for visiting me in the medbay." 

Mirage paused, shuttering his optics momentarily in surprise, whether it was from Sunstreaker finding out, or the genuine gratitude, Mirage wasn't sure. "Um, you're welcome." 

He felt rather flustered, what could he say? Had Ratchet told Sunstreaker? It didn't seem in the medic's nature to go against Mirage's apparent wishes and inform anyone of what he was doing if he was walking around invisible. Unless of course, he thought it was for Mirage's own good. But this wasn't that kind of situation. 

The golden warrior apparently thought the conversation was over - he nodded to Wheeljack's proposal to test the converter and laughed at Jazz's warnings about the device's surely explosive nature. 

Mirage stepped away from the group, heading for his quarters. He had patrol shift in an hour and maybe a literary pad would help pass the time. And ease the fluttering in his fuel pump. 

As soon as he was off, Wheeljack poked Sunstreaker in the shoulder. "He went seeing you? I didn't know you're on good terms. I thought he's with Hound." 

"'Jack-" Jazz began but he was promptly ignored. 

"He is, now," Sunstreaker shrugged. "But before? He was head over heels into me. Actually I think he still is. Good soldier... but miserable with his own feelings."

"He's not the only one," Jazz cut in. "Sunny, let sleeping systems lie. He is with Hound, and we don't need more quarrel. We're in a sensitive situation still."

"Come on, Jazz, you know me...!" The golden twin blinked at the saboteur innocently. 

"That's what got me worried in the first place." 

 

It was after patrol, and Mirage was now visiting Ratchet himself. An unfortunate fall had left they spy's knee joint dislocated and apparently it had nearly snapped in two. Ratchet refused to allow him to walk out of the med bay unassisted and had contacted one of the off-duty mechs to help Mirage back to his quarters. 

It's not that it was surprising that Sunstreaker appeared in the door. Everybody knew that the Universe had a twisted sense of humor. The warrior's face was perfectly neutral as he strolled closer and offered a shoulder for the spy lo lean on. 

Mirage carefully slipped off the berth, even with the pain suppressant it still throbbed with a dull pain, and leaned on Sunstreaker. As they made their slow procession back to his quarters, Mirage had to break the silence.

"Thank you for this Sunstreaker. I appreciate the help." His CPU was already berating him as a fool, and that it was better to keep his mouth shut. It was going to be a long walk to his room. 

"No problem. Autobot camaraderie and such. And Ratchet asked." There was a pause. "And besides, I appreciate your visit." 

"I was worried about you. You nearly died. Did Ratchet tell you I visited? Because I didn't think anyone else noticed me." 

"He didn't directly tell. He just mentioned somebody wanted to stay in the medbay for the night, but he wasn't fooled..." Sunstreaker glanced at the spy. "Only you would attempt to do that." His hand tightened its hold on the slender white waist a little bit. 

Mirage ducked his head, a little embarrassed. "Sorry for being so secretive about my visit, but I didn't know if you'd care for my presence, whether you were conscious to acknowledge it or not." 

"Sure I'd appreciate any concern. Don't you know that...?" Sunstreaker placed his free hand on Mirage's, which was gripping his shoulder. "I thought you knew better than to take me for some sparkless bastard.." 

"I don't think of you as sparkless," Mirage protested. "I just haven't treated you well in the past, and I know I hurt you. We've quarreled before and I didn't want to take the chance of upsetting you." 

Sunstreaker remained silent for a while. "It was long ago. Things changed." His fingers moved idly, caressing Mirage's hand. 

The small touches, hinting at something more made Mirage's frame heat a little. He looked shyly up at Sunstreaker, optic to optic. "How much have they changed? For you?" He asked quietly.

A part of him screamed about Hound, how much the scout cared about him, had always wanted him and would never hurt him. The other begged for the touches to continue. He'd wanted Sunstreaker for so long. 

"I'm... not sure." Sunstreaker smiled a little, but sadness lingered on his expression as well. "I'd say, the situation sorta took a 180 degree turn, huh? Funny..." 

They came to a stop outside Mirage's room, the spy reluctant to enter his pass code and depart from the warrior. "Sunstreaker, do you think perhaps... maybe some time we could get together, and maybe... talk? It'd be nice to discuss some of the old days of Cybertron, and you're the only mech here who knew of it first hand like I do. Or, if not that, perhaps something else?"

It had been many a lonely vorn. Yes he could discuss many of these things with Hound, and the scout knew more about Towers art and society, but it still wasn't the same as talking about it with someone who knew it like he did. 

"Sure, anytime, Mirage," Sunstreaker nodded with a smile, and ran his hand over the spy's arm in a gentle caress." If we both have the time, you only have to ask. Now, go and rest. You need to heal." 

"Alright," Mirage said, smiling at Sunstreaker. "Thank you again, Sunstreaker. If you're not busy, you could come by later if you'd like?" He tried to not sound too hopeful. Emphasis on _tried_. 

"Aah, not today, I'm afraid," Sunstreaker shook his head regretfully. "I promised Wheeljack to finish the converter's testing. But I guess you won't go anywhere tomorrow, and after morning patrol, I can come by. I'll fetch a cube or two." 

"That sounds lovely. I would be happy to see you tomorrow," Mirage said, mood lifting at the suggestion. He entered the code to his quarters, slipping in. "Good night Sunstreaker," Mirage said in parting as the door slid close. 

"Goodnight." 

The golden warrior watched the doors slide close then turned on his heels and marched off with the darkest, meanest grin on his handsome faceplates. 

Revenge was on its way. 

 

Mirage was sitting on his berth, reading, since there was little else to do why still under Ratchet's orders to _'not move unless your berth is on fire'_ , as their beloved medic had put it. He was expecting Sunstreaker to visit any time now, since the warrior's patrol should have ended. He'd left his door on automatic entry, instead of coded lock so Sunstreaker could easily enter when he arrived. 

It took quite a while though until the door hissed open and a slightly surprised Sunstreaker entered with two cubes. His chassis was freshly washed an waxed - apparently, after returning, he took his time to see to his polish. 

"Hello, Mirage. Feeling any better?" 

Mirage sat up from his near supine position on the berth and set his literary pad aside.

"Hello, Sunstreaker. And yes, I am feeling better, thank you," Mirage said. 

The golden warrior nodded with a smile and passed the cube. "Here. It's better than the usual, figured you'd appreciate it. What have you been reading?" He was still standing, though; proper manners didn't allow one to sit until the host said so. 

"Thank you," Mirage said again as he accepted the cube. "And make yourself comfortable, please. It's actually a human piece. Ratchet was able to get Teletrann-1 to scan some Earth literature. It's a collection of poetry by a man named Poe. His poem, 'Annabel Lee', reminds me of Daybreak's 'Love by the Moon'." 

"Hmm. I think I can recall that one... May I?" Sunstreaker gestured toward the pad. "I haven't yet had the time to search for Earth literature, but I will get around it, if it's any good." 

He was a bit relived Mirage chose to indulge into reading; it was all the easier to make a conversation. It made the task more pleasant.

"Of course," Mirage obliged, handing over the pad. "Although Earth isn't anything like Cybertron, it does have it's good points. The humans have produced some very creative minds."

Mirage let out a sigh of longing. "Although, I'm afraid not even good human work has eased my spark to see home once more." 

"All of us miss Cybertron," Sunstreaker said quietly as he trained his optics on the pad. The poem was short, and a bit weird for a transformer, not used to alien cultures, but the emotions were easy to pick up. "It's not too bad. I suppose, the grief over loosing something dear forever is quite common in a lot of species." Indeed, how fitting... The golden warrior sighed, staring into nothing for a few moments. 

"It kind of reminds me of how I felt after the Towers fell, and all of the mechs and femmes I had known were gone," Mirage said solemnly. "Are you alright, Sunstreaker?" He asked upon noticing the warrior's own contemplative mood. 

"Yes, of course," the answer came immediately. "Why would I feel bad...?" He flashed one of his trade mark charmer smiles at the spy. "Does this 'Poe' human has anything more lighter? After all, we shouldn't poison ourselves with bad feelings... We just have to deal with the Decepticons and we can go home." 

"His best known works all seem to deal in dark and tragic subject matter. Although I do have works by other highly acclaimed human authors, and they have some less depressing stories."

Mirage turned to skim through the small pile of literary pads he had accumulated. "Well, I've found Jane Austen's work rather interesting. Although those are novels rather than poetry. It's interesting to notice how much the human culture has changed from when it was published less than two vorns ago." 

"They are rather sort-lived; it is expected that changes happen fast," Sunstreaker thought aloud and leaned closer, placing a hand on Mirage's injured leg. In the next moment, however, he noticed his mistake and snatched his hand away. "Oh! Sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you." 

Mirage flinched from the touch, relaxing once more a moment later. "It's alright Sunstreaker. It hurts significantly less from yesterday, I barley felt anything." Not really true, but the pain wasn't that bad. He'd gotten congratulatory smacks on the back that had hurt more. The touch had just been unexpected and surprised him. 

The golden artist hands settled upon the healing joint, barely touching it; but the electric field around the agile fingers flared up, stimulating Mirage's. "It's good to hear," Sunstreaker smiled. "Ratchet would peel of my back plating if I ruined his work. If you don't mind, I'd like to borrow those 'Jane Austen' pads. What are the stories about?" 

Mirage held back a shudder, fingers tightening around the thermal blanket on his berth.

"You're free to borrow them if you like. The genre of her works is romantic, but they often depict the dependence human woman had in her time on stable marriages. She criticizes much of her society and brings to light how easy a woman's life could be ruined when she hadn't a male family member to care for her.

"It's easy to understand her loathing for the low standing women seemed to have in that time. Their own society made women as dependant on their husbands as a new spark."

"All of it because of gender...?" the golden twin frowned, fingers absent-mindedly tracing the sensitive joint. "It's quite hard to imagine, though, granted, it might have something to do with the fact that our race doesn't have genders. Femmes are merely a different frame variant, like... skin color in the human race. Regardless, it's interesting. And if it's romantic, I suppose it'll do good... I- We haven't had many of that back home." 

"Romance or romantic works?" Mirage quipped good naturedly. "Although neither have been very prolific, actually," Mirage mused. "Love is difficult to seek in a time of so much hatred and death." 

"Yes. I think, somewhere deep inside our sparks, that makes us hate the Cons even more," Sunstreaker mused. "In war, it is easy to loose loved ones, and one doesn't even have a lot to choose from, only the closest team mates." His fingertip dragged along the refined metal beneath his hand lightly. 

Mirage clenched tighter to the blanket under him, trying not to focus on the smooth glide of Sunstreaker's fingertip. "Maybe, sometimes that's all we need. Love is love, and if you're fortunate enough to find someone to care about, and receive their love in return, you really should try to hold onto that with everything you have." 

The golden twin nodded. "It makes me wonder, did Prime choose his crew purposely to have couples on board...? Prowl is rumored to be with Jazz, Ratchet with Wheeljack. my brother with Blue... And you with Hound." He chuckled lightly. "Lucky mechs. Maybe Prime really did that on purpose. A beloved one's presence is an inspiring force. It makes one try his best, all the time." 

"But most of us also have talents or unique skills to contribute to Prime. Prowl is his second in command, Jazz the head of his spy network, Ratchet is the CMO of our entire army, Wheeljack is a genius engineer, you and Sideswipe are his best warriors, Hound and I have our unique illusionary techniques. It probably just helped that many of his best were closely linked to each other." 

"I've never said it didn't..." the warrior tilted his head to the side. "Mirage? You're getting kinda... squirmy. What- Oh. Oh!" He pulled his hand away." Ooops, sorry!" he grinned sheepishly. "I just thought the energy field will help the joint to relax. Ratchet showed that to me when I pulled my shoulder once... I guess I got carried away during the conversation. My apologies, I didn't mean to be intrusive." He placed his hand down on the berth and leaned on it. "Sorry, sorry. Won't happen again." 

Mirage calmed his systems, fists slowly uncurling around the thermal blanket. "It's an understandable mistake Sunstreaker. Thank you for the well meaning intentions, however." 

"You're welcome. I wouldn't dream about doing anything... improper." He took his cube, which was still untouched, forgotten during the verbal exchange and took a long sip. "Hmm, this is really nice. So, can you show me some more poetry?" 

"Of course," Mirage picked up another pad, face brightening. "Ah, here's another I enjoyed. Robert Frost.

"Nature's first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold.  
Her early leaf's a flower;  
But only so an hour.  
Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day.  
Nothing gold can stay."

Mirage recited. The poem had struck a cord with him the moment he'd read it, the title of 'Nothing Gold Can Stay' only ringing more true for him. 

"The same goes for blue and white," Sunstreaker murmured with dimming optics then stood up. "I should leave. Just pass me those pads and I won't bother you anymore." 

"Oh no, Sunstreaker, I wasn't referring to you, please don't go," Mirage said plaintively, looking up at Sunstreaker. "I just thought it was a beautiful poem, and honestly, it reminded me of home."

His hand quickly snatched at Sunstreaker's wrist. "Please Sunstreaker, don't go. I didn't mean for you to think I was talking of how we parted." 

The golden warrior stood still for a while, then sighed deeply and sank back on the berth. "Alright... I was probably a bit touchy about it. I'm sorry." Not that he was. The poem made him more angry than sad or hurt; it irked him that Mirage might have chosen it to rub it in what was actually his very own fault, being a spoiled little brat who couldn't handle not having something first time in his life... But he seemed honest enough, and Sunstreaker, for once, was willing to believe him. 

"I should have been more considerate when reading it. I'm sorry," Mirage apologized. And maybe the poem made him think a little about Sunstreaker, but more so it reminded him of how brief the beauty of freedom and love had been for him. The grief of losing his home still hurt, far more than Sunstreaker ever could.

"The poem just reminds me of everything I've lost in this war. The Towers, my friends, my father..." The loss of Visionary had been especially harsh for him. They had been a close pair, and he'd loved and admired his father above anyone else. 

"Just as I lost Stainless," the warrior murmured. "And my second brother. And the Helix Gardens, and the Primus Shrine and the Grand Holo Gallery, and everything else." 

"Little besides memories remain of our past lives. Only rubble, and if we're lucky, perhaps a small scattering of old relations. Although besides you, everyone I knew from before the war is either dead or with the Decepticons," Mirage mourned. 

"However... you have new friends, and a dream to fight for, don't you?" the golden twin asked quietly. 

"Yes," Mirage said nodding. "But I just can't help but miss what I had. Even when this war is done, if I should live, they'll still be gone." 

A golden hand rose to touch the curves of the blue helm, tracing the vents gently. "Until there are artists, mech who can create beauty, we have the chance to restore Cybertron and everything hat was lost, can't we...?" 

Mirage slowly nodded, remembering his own words to Bumblebee. "In a way, Sunstreaker, it's mechs like you who are our greatest hope in this war."

Sunstreaker lowered his head with a smile as if in embarrassment. "That's always good to hear... I'll try not to get myself scrapped, then." 

Mirage tilted his head, smiling. "I hope you would, I'd hate to lose a good friend like you." 

Sunstreaker looked up. "Friend..? You consider me a friend?" His intakes picked up. 

Mirage nodded, answering, "Yes." He smiled again, optics brightening. "My uncle used to tell me that any mech you can sit down with for longer than a breem and have a friendly conversation beyond idle chatter or business has to be your friend." 

_'Was that the same uncle who used to drive into ditches and gave you porn?'_ the golden warrior wanted to ask but restrained himself. It was hard, facing so much naiveté. "Your uncle was a wise mech," he managed to say out loud. "I'm glad that you think of me as such... after all what happened." 

Mirage chuckled. "For all his oddities, my uncle had an interesting and often correct view of the world. And as I see it, as long as we're both willing to leave the past in the past, it can stay there as far as I'm concerned. I forgave you for what happened long ago."

Mirage became uncertain, finger sliding along the edges of his half empty cube. "Have you forgiven me for the wrongs I did unto you?" 

Sunstreaker didn't like to lie; mostly, because he could hurt others a lot more with the truth. So now, he needed a few astroseconds to make sure he can keep his composure as he forced himself to smile lightly and claim: "Yes." He hoped the other won't need any explanation, because in the golden twin's optics, the only one at fault in all the past happenings was Mirage. 

Mirage relaxed, feeling more at ease. "That's a relief to hear. Because I do feel horrible for how I hurt you. And for what it's worth, I am sorry." 

"It's... alright." Sunstreaker kept on smiling. "Apology accepted, and it's good we managed to settle this." His insides were itching. 

"Yes," Mirage said, spark feeling lighter than it had since their last confrontation. "And you know, if you get bored with the romance and poetry, I have other novels of interest that you might like. I recently discovered this one writer by the name of Alexandre Dumas who was more a writer of adventure. 'The Three Musketeers' and 'The Count of Monte Cristo', have both left me quite enthralled." 

Finally, change in topic. "Oh, that sounds intriguing. Cybertronian literature was always somewhat lacking in that department." 

"Yes, and both stories themes are quite interesting. 'The Three Musketeers' is a great tale of friendship and loyalty while 'The Count of Monte Cristo' is a stunning piece about a man's desire for vengeance after he was unjustly punished by those he trusted for selfish reasons," Mirage went on, face lighting up as he explained the two novels. 

"Oooh. Vengeance. It's a powerful thing; I think I'll enjoy that one," Sunstreaker nodded. "You had a lot of time to read, huh? You can't get up and Hound's still away..." 

"Yes, and although I love reading the literary pads I have from Cybertron, if I look over the same ones too frequently, I'll become bored with them. Although hopefully Hound will be back by tomorrow, Jazz said he should be. It has been rather lonely without him." 

"I can imagine..." Sunstreaker said softly, petting Mirage's leg, carefully not touching him anywhere close to the healing injury. "You seem so happy together..." 

Mirage smiled fondly. "He's been wonderful to me, I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve such kindness. And so patient and understanding, I know I've put him through so much, and yet he still loves me." 

Sunstreaker suppressed the urge to empty his fuel tanks all over the berth and hopefully the snobby aristocrat, too. "It's great that so many mechs still find their matches. I like to watch my brother and Blue... They're cute together, when they forget about the outside world. Perhaps..." 

Mirage tilted his head, watching Sunstreaker curiously. "Yes, Sunstreaker?" Did the Lamborghini have someone of interest? 

"Perhaps... once we get back, I might... just.. find somebody as well." He was actually telling the truth, and it made all the worse. The golden warrior was not the same as back then - he rarely said what was on his spark, he bottled everything up inside. Only his twin was able to hear him talk honestly, and only when they were alone, in the darkness of their room. 

Mirage nodded sympathetically. "I hope you do. You deserve to be happy as well, Sunstreaker." 

"Heh... yeah. Since I botched my chances...." The artist was not looking at the spy. It was crucial not to. 

"I wish I could make it up to you Sunstreaker. I know now what I did was petty and immature," even with the warriors forgiveness, guilt still gnawed at Mirage. He'd never wanted to hurt Sunstreaker. 

"You did everything you could for me that night and I was a sparkling about it." He reached out, taking a golden hand in his own and squeezing it. "I am thankful that you gave me a lovely and memorable first time, and that since then I could continue to know love from others. I did keep that promise at least. I never regretted giving myself to you, I just regret not being mature enough to have properly handled it." 

Suddenly, Sunstreaker just felt tired. An overwhelming fatigue crashed down on him, it even overshadowed his anger for the spy... damn that stupid brat, why did he have to be so honest and lovely...? He wordlessly leaned closer and hugged the other mech, burying his face into the crook of Mirage's neck for a while. He felt so tired... so empty and alone. 

Mirage returned the hug after a moment, offlining his optics. "I hate what this war did to you. It's filled you with so much anger and hate. It's even tried to twist your beautiful spark to be as ugly as it." 

Sunstreaker twitched and pulled away from the embrace. "Okay glitch, you've won." 

Mirage stared at Sunstreaker, confused. "What? Won? I don't understand." He slowly straightened, hands falling to his lap. 

Sunstreaker stood up and walked away, crossing his arms. "When I found out it was you visiting me, I thought I'll teach you a lesson so you'll finally see how stupid this infatuation is with me. I wanted to shag you into the berth or at least make you wish I did that; I wanted to make you feel like slag. But I'm too tired to play this game, and you apparently really got over me. It would be pretty nasty even for me to carry out with this revenge any longer. You're still a naive mech, thinking I had been a nice mech once; I never was. I have my father's personality and he was a horrible fragger, Primus bless his spark. You just rest here, read and wait for Hound; I'll go on my way. I'd still like to take those pads, though." 

Mirage stared, open mouthed at Sunstreaker. "I... you... You were pretending to get along with me? Just to hurt me? And now you're not because I appear to be over you?"

Mirage had to stave his hand lest he throw one of the literary pads at Sunstreaker's head. And really, he didn't want to die because he was upset and dented the temperamental warrior's helm. 

"As you so well observed, I'm a glitch," the golden warrior stated dryly. "I don't have friends or lovers, merely comrades; you happen to be one of the most tolerable ones. And you haven't wronged me - I shouldn't do that either." 

"If I haven't wronged you, then why did you feel the need to teach me any sort of lesson? Only someone whose been hurt would feel that way." 

Sunstreaker was silent for a while. "I don't want you to try and come after me, that's all," he said finally, not looking at the spy. 

"So... you were going to seduce me, and then leave me so I wouldn't try to peruse you?" Mirage couldn't help but boggle at the faulty logic. 

"You usually don't pursue a mech who had broken your spark," Sunstreaker pointed out. 

"But why would you want to? I visited you because I was worried for you, why do you want to push me away? I've never seen you do this to anyone else whose shown care and concern for you." 

"I can't shove Sideswipe away, he's my Spark Twin..." 

"Stop avoiding the subject," Mirage growled. "Why do you keep doing this? Do you hate me that much?" 

The golden shoulders sagged. "No. It's not that I hate you. I just wanted to be sure that you got over me. You did. End of story." Primus, why was he still here, arguing...? 

Mirage ducked his head in shame, optics dimming. "But I haven't. Hound is my best friend Sunstreaker, but we ended our romance long ago. He's just been kind enough to allow everyone to think he's with me so I wouldn't be bothered. Haven't you noticed that even for how close we are, we've never shared an actual moment of intimacy?" 

"Like it would be proper for a Tower mech to share any intimate moments in public...!" Sunstreaker shot back. So... what, Mirage was still pining after him...? Seriously, his CPU will stop if this goes on much longer...! 

"Didn't stop me the night I lost my seals, did it?" Mirage asked with a raised optic ridge, remembering when he and Sunstreaker were practically groping each other as they made out at his father's party. "Even the Towers saw nothing wrong with a couple holding hands or exchanging chaste kisses." 

"Mirage. What exactly are you trying to tell me?" Sunstreaker rubbed his temple. "That you still love me, no matter how you insist that you cannot love me because I've changed so much...?" 

"I said that... what, once? When I was actually with Hound, and you honestly were scaring me a little. I don't know much about the mech you've become, but I'd like to. Maybe I'll fall out of love with who you are now, maybe I won't. But all I keep seeing when I look at you is someone who told me I had to keep finding love until I either forgot about him or we met again. I didn't forget you Sunstreaker, and we have met again." 

"So you refuse to grow up." The golden warrior stepped closer, leaned down and cupped the spy's head with one hand to keep him steady while he pressed his lips against his. The kiss was firm but not too demanding. 

Mirage arched into the touch, nearly unseating himself from his berth. He pressed closer into the kiss as his hand came up to hesitantly grasp at a shoulder. 

'Very well then," Sunstreaker murmured as he broke the contact. "If I have to hurt you to make you see what a mean mech I am, then so be it. You'll see the changes and you'll recoil, but I'll reach out and pull you back, pull you down. You just made a pact with a Quintesson, Mirage, and at the end, you'll have only yourself to blame." 

Mirage's optics narrowed and his grip tightened on the golden shoulder. "Eloquent words aren't going to scare me off, Sunstreaker, so stop talking and start doing."

This time Mirage was the one to pull the warrior in. He pressed their lips together as his other hand clamped onto Sunstreaker's other shoulder to mirror it's partner's, trying to keep the warrior with him. A part of his CPU was almost afraid Sunstreaker would run off again. 

His worries seemed to be without foundation as the golden warrior pulled closer, sinking down next to the spy and curling an arm against his waist. His glossa sneaked into Mirage's mouth, rediscovering the insides. The delicate artist finger stayed still, however; they didn't quest for the sensitive joints. 

Mirage's engine purred as Sunstreaker's glossa slid across sensitive circuits and one of his hands quested up to one of Sunstreaker's headcrests. His thumb caressed the yellow painted vents as his fingers gripped the edge. 

The mastercrafted lips curled up with a smug smile. "Is that an invitation?" 

Mirage's faceplates heated in embarrassment as he whispered, "Yes, please Sunstreaker." His fingers curled into the golden plated shoulder and black edged helm crest. 

The golden fingers immediately launched to action, seeking out the joints and the warrior's dental plates raked over the neck struts and power cables on the throat. "Soooo," he purred, "You've never even let Hound please you...?" 

Mirage shuddered, pawing at the golden frame in front of him. "N-no. I haven't been touched since I promised myself to you." He yelped as Sunstreaker's teeth slid along his neck. 

"You must be quite deprived..." the purring continued, sending vibrations along the struts. "Then, lovely, I'll just have to blow your processors once again... Lie back. We cannot have your knee getting worse, right...?" 

"S-suppose not," Mirage stuttered, as Sunstreaker helped him lay down on his berth. He had enough mind to set his discarded pads onto his berthside desk. He still wanted to finish reading them. 

Sunstreaker hopped up on top of the berth, and promptly straddled Mirage. He grabbed the spy's arms and brought them above his head so the golden fingers will gave full access to the joints. First, the warrior caressed them for a while, then one of his hands slid down to the white-plated torso, rubbing at the panel covering the cable and the port. 

"You haven't changed, Mirage. I thought you'll grow up to be a real spark-breaker and here you are, vents growling as I ride you..." Sunstreaker was obviously amused. 

Mirage panted as his optics darkened. He bucked and whimpered as one hand caressed his joints and the other his panel. The small covering clicked open at the attention. "It's b-been a long... long time, Sunstreaker."

His heels dug into the edge of his berth and his engine revved as he squirmed in the larger mech's hold. 

"Then, lovely, no need to waste any time. Pop that cable out for me." While he talked, the golden twin pulled out his own cable and pushed it into Mirage's port firmly. He held the data flow back as much as he could but a few impulses seeped through, stimulating the spy's already reeling systems. 

Mirage gasped, shuddering and arching into the frame above him. His cable popped out, falling limply back onto his frame. His spark raced and pulsed in it's casing as he called out breathily, "Sunstreaker..." 

"Yeeees?" the artist teased as he pulled the cable out to its full length and licked the sensitive tip. "Anything you'd like to say, lovely?" 

Mirage tried to curl into himself, but Sunstreaker's hold on his arms prevented that. Pleasure raced through his systems straight to his spark as the golden mech's glossa slid along the tip of his plug.

"Oh Primus... please Sunstreaker, I don't think I can take much more of this teasing." 

The golden warrior had an inappropriately smug and contented look on his faceplates; but he had mercy on the spy. He pushed the cable into his own port, then released the stream he was holding back, let it flood both their insides. "Aahh..." His face immediately softened a bit and his optics dimmed a bit, but he still kept watching. 

"Let me hear you, lovely." 

Mirage mewled, arching, straining against the frame above him, as energy coursed through him. Each new spike of data made his spark swell and a choked gasp would escape his vocalizer. His hands curled and uncurled, fans whirring and engine revving as overload quickly approached. 

Sunstreaker was not far behind; he had considerably more overloads behind him, as Bluestreak and Sideswipe never denied his needs. But because of that the golden twin already learned to control his own systems. If he, and the partner really tried, he could reach overload in a quarter of a breem. And right now, he didn't even need to hurry that much, though Mirage was definitely sending out quite intense impulses. 

"That's it, lovely, yess... Mirage...! Nnh..." His engines revved as well. 

Mirage bit his lip, vocalizer crackling in a static whine. He tensed as he felt the built up energy in his systems ready to release. His sight exploded in white as he reached overload, crying out, "Sunstreaker!" 

The warrior chuckled at the cry then his frame arched back as he offlined his optics to feel the wonderful sensation completely as it washed over him. Processors screeched to a halt and vents roared but it was still wonderful, every time. Sunstreaker just simply let it happen, with a shuddering moan. 

As Mirage came down from his overload high, he was allowed a moment to see Sunstreaker truly blissful. "Beautiful," he murmured as Sunstreaker arched above him and the golden mech savored his own climax. 

As the energy flow ebbed away, the golden warrior slumped forward, and gently traced his lover's lips with a fingertip. "Now, that was nice. And you didn't even leave your berth." 

Mirage kissed the finger on his lips, smiling up at the handsome face above him. "Haven't felt like this since before the war." 

"Feh. You can never feel like this. I only give out special overloads." Sunstreaker disconnected the cables and closed both of their panels. Then, he pulled further away on his berth and took a deep swing from his cube. "Aaah. I really needed this." 

Mirage carefully sat up, trying not to jostle his knee. He picked up his own, still unfinished cube and took a drink, relishing the energy it filled him with. "So you have a magic cable that leaves your lovers with a feeling unique only to you?" Mirage teased with an amused smile. 

"Everything about me is magical," Sunstreaker countered. "You can ask Blue or Sides. By the way..." His smirk gained an evil edge. "Since Sides always shared Blue with me, that would mean, that if I wanna be a good brother..." 

Mirage couldn't help the heating of his face as he squeezed the cube in his hands. "Wouldn't Bluestreak be a little upset?" 

"Upset is probably not the right word; maybe a little bit jealous." Sunstreaker was smirking again - he enjoyed this. "After all, he won't have my undivided attention. But I trust Sides to calm him down. An in case you meant him getting upset because Sides might claim you... It's not even sure Sides would do that. And, we won't force you joining our happy threesome. But it would be heaps of fun. Especially if we decide to play our usual games."

“G-games?” Mirage squeaked, optics widening. It wasn’t like he was new to the idea, or even a multi-partner interface. His previous partners, however, usually waited further into the relationship to suggest such things. 

"It's called roleplaying, Mirage," Sunstreaker laughed. "Sometimes it's kinky, other times it's totally innocent. And remember, nobody's forcing you." 

"I know, I wouldn't be opposed to any of your suggestions... but for now I'd rather it just be with you for a while. I want to just get to know you again." He took a last sip of his cube, emptying it. "We have a lot of catching up to do." He wasn't going to admit to Sunstreaker that the idea of being shared between the two handsome twins didn't sound bad, just a little daunting after only just a breem ago resuming a romantic relationship. 

"Whatever you want, lovely," the golden mech stretched lazily. "Well then, I think I could use a nap right now. I'll let you heal and read. When Ratchet lets you out of the room, we could take a look around someday, hmm? It's a fragged place, but we'll be confined here for a while, it's better to get to know it..." 

"I'd like that," Mirage said with a smile. "A few of the others on board have already explored and found some amazing sights. Hound even showed me a few holo-images of some of the rural areas he's explored." 

"I just hope he can track local suppliers, too." Sunstreaker sighed dramatically. "The roads here are horrible. Anyway, pass a few pads so we'll have something to discuss and I'll be off- I haven't had an overload in the past eight orns, I got out of practice. You tired me!" 

Mirage handed the pads he'd recommended earlier to Sunstreaker. He gave the warrior a mischievous smirk. "You poor mech. Would you like me to make it up to you and you can rest on my berth? I'll probably be going into recharge soon as well anyways." 

"Naah." Sunstreaker shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't want Hound to find me there. Regardless of you not being together." 

Mirage's optics dimmed at the thought of his dear friend. "Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him if he came and saw you here."

Hound had never said anything, but Mirage suspected the scout held some resentment towards Sunstreaker.

"I'd still be happy if you came for another visit. Ratchet said that I should be good to walk around again in another two days. And I'd appreciate the company." 

"Sure. I'll drop in when I'll have the time." The artist gave Mirage a lazy, two-finger salute. "See you later then, lovely." 

"Goodbye, Sunstreaker," Mirage said, giving the artist a short wave of farewell he'd seen the humans use.


	6. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the relatively late update. Issues.

Only a few hours later that Sunstreaker left, the spy's door slid open again and Hound walked in with a puzzled look. "What's with the door? It was open." He smiled at the spy though and quickly leaned down to drop a small kiss on the blue helm. "How are you, Mirage? I ran into Trailbreaker, he said you drove into a ditch and fragged your knee." 

Mirage smiled up at Hound, setting the literary pad face down on his chassis. "I'm feeling much better from earlier Hound. I just have to stay berth ridden for a couple days to let it properly heal."

He glanced at the door, smiling as he remembered why it was unlocked. "I had the door on automatic earlier, I must have forgotten to reset it afterwards."

Hound didn't ask, just smiled. He walked to his berth and began to part from his weapons. "I think I need a shower," he chatted. "This place is wonderful but some roads could rival the wilderness around Vos...! By the way, you do look good. In fact, you're looking better than you have in a long time. It's a wonder what some rest can achieve...! You shine. Almost as if you had an overload." He stopped, placing his hand on his hips. "Should I be jealous?" he asked jokingly, with a smile. 

Mirage's optics darted to his hands. Even though he and Hound weren't together, it still felt sort of like a betrayal to the scout being with Sunstreaker. "I... really hope you wouldn't be," Mirage admitted, still unable to look at his friend.

"If it were your own pretty hands spoiling you, I won't hold it against them..." Hound teased, but he could sense the slight tension around the other's frame. 

"It wasn't," Mirage said, glancing over at Hound, then away. He could have said nothing, had wanted to. But he wouldn't do that to Hound, he needed to be honest with his friend. Hound deserved so much better than lies or omissions.

"You... you mean you've really... got together with somebody...?" Hound's optics wavered. "I... guess that's great. You deserve to be happy. Congratulation and... good luck?"

Mirage gave his friend a small smile. "Thank you Hound. I appreciate the support." Of course he wasn't sure how supportive Hound would be when he found out who he'd been with.

The scout nodded. "Of course. You're my friend" He smiled as well then shook himself. "I'll be off for a shower then... Maybe I'll go to make my report afterwards. You just... heal." From the door, he looked up. "Would you read me something when I'm back?"

"Of course," Mirage said with a nod and another smile.

Guilt gnawed at his spark. Hound didn't seem okay about the revelation. Had he figured out who Mirage had interfaced with? Probably, Mirage hadn't touched another mech since he'd ended their relationship, the scout knew how much he cared about Sunstreaker. He hadn't needed to ask, he could make a correct assumption.

It took about two hours until Hound dragged himself back into his shared room. Prowl had asked him to analyze the data he gathered, and Optimus was extra curious today, too... The green mech flopped down on his berth and groaned. "I think I've fried my holo equipment. Next time Prowl wants to see something I'll tell him to go and see it for himself..."

"It might be a useful suggestion, he should get out more," Mirage replied, grinning. "Are you feeling alright otherwise?"

"Yeah, nothing what a little relaxation won't cure," Hound waved off. "Some poetry will ease my processors and after a good night's recharge, I'll be as good as new."

"Any requests?" Mirage asked, flipping through the files. "Cybertronian, human, a particular poet?"

"Umm, something human, if it's okay... Something about Nature, these wonderful creatures or plants. They're so intriguing, I don't think I'll ever get bored watching them."

"Alright," Mirage agreed. He filtered through Robert Frost again, he believed he'd seen some poetry of the man's that pertained to nature.

" The same leaves over and over again!  
They fall from giving shade above  
To make one texture of faded brown  
And fit the earth like a leather glove.

Before the leaves can mount again  
To fill the trees with another shade,  
They must go down past things coming up.  
They must go down into the dark decayed.

They _must_ be pierced by flowers and put  
Beneath the feet of dancing flowers.  
However it is in some other world  
I know that this is way in ours."

When finished, Mirage looked over to his friend, hoping the green scout had enjoyed it.

Hound blinked. "It's... lovely but I'm afraid, the symbolism is lost on me..."

"It referring to the cycle of life, and the hardships endured throughout it. Birth, life, and death eventually leading to new life for the process to begin again," Mirage explained.

"I suppose it's hard to grasp because we're not organics," Hound mused. "Their life cycle is so different, and fleeting. I hope I'll get to know more about it."

"It's kind of spark breaking to think how fleeting their life is," Mirage mused. "Although at the same time, it gives them the freedom to act far more freely and impulsively than our own species. We could take vorns to develop a close enough bond with another to allow them to love us entirely. Humans on the other hand will go through their own bonding practices after only knowing someone for a few Earth years, if that."

"As I've gathered, they're a highly sociable species, so they just don't like to be alone for long." the scout nodded. "And they have to hurry and reproduce their kind, after all, they don't have much time for it." He stared at the ceiling. "On the other hand, we can go on for hundreds of vorns being alone... Or waiting for somebody."

Mirage’s spark clenched as he silently lamented for ever hurting Hound in the first place. “It seems that hurting loved ones comes a little too naturally for us as well,” Mirage said remorsefully. “Even when it was never our intention,” he added as an apology.

"It's okay..." Hound said with a small smile. "Through the cycles, I kind of... accepted it. It sort of amazed me how stubbornly you refused me and I mean stubborn in the most positive sense. I just hope you end up with the right Bot." His optics flashed at Mirage. 

Mirage smiled in a mixture of relief and pleasure. Thankful that Hound wasn't upset, and pleased at the reminder that Sunstreaker was willing to give a relationship with him a chance. "I think I have."

Hound got up and walked over the spy's berth, then sank down on his knees and leaned his head on the smooth surface. Despite that he was indeed happy to see his dear friend being so radiant and relaxed, it still hurt... And he knew it was going to hurt for a while. 

Mirage gave the kneeling mech's helm a tentative touch. Any words of comfort or appeals for Hound to find someone who could love him would sound hypocritical coming from him. "Are you alright Hound?" he asked in concern.

"I will be," the quiet answer came. "Eventually. If you want me to be fine... and I know you do; then I'll be alright. I just hope our friendship will prevail, no matter who you're involved with. I love you, Mirage." He straightened and his black hand captured the spy's. 

"Always Hound, no lover could replace you as my dearest friend. I only hope I can be there for you as much as you have for me," Mirage replied gently.

Black fingers laced with blue ones. Mirage never offered his hand to be hold, and Hound was too... polite? Modest? Considerate? - to ask for it. Now, this was the goodbye. The scout offlined his optics and touched his lips against the spy's fingers. "Thank you, Mirage."

Mirage couldn't help but think that Hound's gratitude was misplaced. He'd only hurt the scout in his quest to discover his own feelings. "It's I that should thank you Hound, I'm not sure I would be here if not for you. And I will always be grateful for everything you've done for me."

Hound smiled. "We make a great team, don't we? And we'll be just like that. Hmm... Mirage, if he wants to come here... Just tell me and I won't bother, okay?"

Mirage nodded, returning the smile. "Thank you Hound, I appreciate that. He was rather worried about staying earlier because you were expected back soon. We thought it would be slightly awkward."

"A considerate one..." the scout mused. "It seems he likes me... But then again, by some reason, most of the mechs do." He ducked his head sheepishly. Okay, so who was this mystery mech then...? Of course, Hound had a certain suspicion, but... Who knows. And besides, Mirage said his lover won't hurt him...

"It's hard not to like you Hound, you're a nice mech. Not even our less sociable comrades seem to dislike you."

Hound squinted up. "That category kinda includes Sunstreaker and about two minibots only."

Mirage ducked his head at the mention of Sunstreaker, optics darting back up to Hound hesitantly. His systems even heated a little, the memories of the interface still quite fresh in his memory banks.

The scout's spark twisted. He looked at his friend straight in the optics. "Mirage. Say it's not him."

Mirage avoided Hound's optics, slowly pulling his hands into his lap. "You know I can't lie to you, Hound."

The green mech was standing in the next second, glaring at the spy. "He _will_ hurt you."

" _If_ he does, I think I can handle it," Mirage replied coolly. He appreciated the concern, but it wasn't like he couldn't take care of himself.

"But Mirage...! You two were at each other's throats... He nearly killed you! He made obvious that he doesn't want anything to do with you! He'll use you and cast you aside, Mirage, don't do this to yourself, please!" His insides were heating up, and Hound could feel his spark trashing in its casing... Sunstreaker. That yellow menace, that killer who had coolant in his fuel tubes instead of energon... He was getting into Mirage's berth?! The scout was a kind mech, patient and calm, but right now, jealousy was choking him. He loved the spy for so long, and now, Sunstreaker just dances in and steals him...!

"I was responsible for that as well, Hound. I don't think Sunstreaker would have acted nearly as harshly as he did if I had handled the situation with more maturity. He cares for me Hound, I know it doesn't look like it, but I think he wants to love someone as much as I love him, and to be loved.

"He's been driving me away from him since the moment we met again, but it's not because he hates me. I think he's just as worried as you are that he'll hurt me," Mirage admitted. He could see that the golden warrior was in emotional turmoil, and he wanted to help Sunstreaker, prove to the artist that someone not his spark twin could love him.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Hound growled. "But alright, have your way. Just keep in mind that he hurts you... I will not forgive him. And if you'll need somebody to turn to..." His shoulders slumped. "I'll be here. You'll always have me."

"I know, thank you Hound," Mirage said, relaxing. He'd become tense as soon as Hound had asked about Sunstreaker. Now that his friend was at least somewhat accepting, albeit grudgingly and probably silently disapproving, he felt a little better at Hound knowing the truth. It felt like he was the only one who actually had hopes that this relationship could stand a chance.

His spark twisted at a thought. "You're not going to bother Sunstreaker about this are you? He's uncertain enough of this, I really don't want him thinking everyone else is against him as well." Hound would never do anything to sabotage him and Sunstreaker, but Mirage knew the protective and concerned scout would probably want to have a word with the warrior.

"My disapproval would probably just encourage him," Hound said bitterly. "I don't know what I will do. It's too sudden... I'll have to think it through and calm down. I'm... sorry, for just stepping off, but I don't think I can stay at the Ark right now. I'll drive outside and probably stay for a while. But I'll be surely back by nightfall."

"I understand Hound. Goodbye," Mirage said. It still felt a little awkward. He had the feeling Hound would be watching him and Sunstreaker from now on, waiting for Sunstreaker to hurt him.

***

Though, at least by the time darkness descended on the desert and the Ark and it's crew began to settle into the peaceful night cycle, the scout seemed a lot calmer. He sported a few scratches on his paintjob, from the pebbles his tires threw at him and while he corrected the polish, he convinced the spy to read him more poems by various human authors. He didn't bring up the topic of Mirage's new commitment.

Mirage was thankful that Hound hadn't pushed the subject of Sunstreaker anymore. He was even more relieved that they could fall easily fall into companionable company with each other still. He was surprised by how many poems there were concerning romantic love as he avoided reading each and every one.

Eventually, Hound finished with waxing and suggested they went to recharge. It was late anyway and tomorrow, who knows what would happen.

Mirage had, of course agreed. He had little to do but read, which was starting to drive him a little stir-crazy, honestly. He loved having time to himself to absorb good literature, but even he had his limits. He was looking forward to re-joining the Ark's crew once more and being outside of his quarters. He slipped off into recharge along with Hound.

The universe, on the other hand, decided to deal out one final stab. 

Deep in the night, sometime just before dawn, something roused the spy from his rest. On the edge of his consciousness, he registered curious noises - soft humming and broken whispers. As he came back fully online, he could even identify it: the steady, low roar of vents, metal scraping against metal... even a few very quiet moans drifted out into the darkness, barely audible ones, and eventually, even a recognizable word: "Mirage...!"

The spy's optics drifted around the room as he slowly shook the drowsiness out of his CPU. He leaned over onto his side, propping himself up with an elbow and looked for the sound. Was that... "Hound?" Mirage asked in muddled confusion, the effects of recharge still clinging to his processors.

Maybe it was a good thing that the other didn't hear him; maybe not. The green scout's optics were offline, and his hands were roaming all over his plating. His interface panel was open and he kept returning to it, pushing a finger into the port. Every time, he whined, still not gone enough to let his voice out... But maybe it was just a habit. 

"Mmm... Mirage... A-ah... Love... you... Mirage, Mirage...!"

Mirage's mouth fell open in shock, sliding across his berth until he encountered the wall as Hound continued heedless of his audience. Remorse, pity, and mortification all welled up in his spark. He'd known the scout had cared about him in a manner different from how he felt for the green mech. But he'd never thought Hound had loved him to this extent. Perhaps it had just been denial that had fed the belief that Hound's love for him wasn't this intense, fed by the desperation and guilt to not have someone he didn't love be so in love with him and thus hurt a dear friend. However he couldn't deny such a glaring truth as Hound fondled himself, calling out the spy's name in need.

The seconds ticked by, each of them adding to the misery; until Hound's frame tensed and he let out a pitiful whimper, a few tiny lightning arching over his frame. Then, he relaxed against his berth, one hand on his panel, and he let his temperature to normalize. 

Mirage wished he was anywhere but here, seeing Hound, dear, sweet Hound, pining after him. It was sad to watch, especially because he could not return the scout's love. He hoped Hound wouldn't notice him, know that he'd had an unwilling audience. His desire to not be seen by the scout sparked a subconscious trigger of his electro-disruptor and rendered him invisible.

The scout eventually cooled down and risked a glance at his roommate's berth. His optics widened a little as he saw nobody on the other berth, then his faceplates heated up - he could very well assume, that his beloved spy was in fact, there... But he didn't want to think about it. He laid back and offlined his optics and willed himself into recharge.

Once Hound was asleep again, Mirage slowly laid back down on his own berth, returning to recharge. Before rest claimed him, he wondered if there was anything, outside of one blatant option he couldn't fulfill, he could do to ease his dear friend's spark, or _someone_ who could.


	7. Balancing

A golden hand caressed the black helm lovingly. "I still wonder how did you end up with that chatterbox..."

Sideswipe onlined his optics, looking up at his twin with a playful smile. "Because he's adorable and good at interfacing." He stretched out on the berth, sight reminiscent of a cat.

His golden twin moved a little closer - not that there was any room between them - and continued to pet his bother's frame. "No, that's the reason why I keep him around. I can barely stand him on a mission, he just keeps on yapping. I can't even hear my own thoughts from him...!"

"He's like a lost turbofox cub. Then again, you've kinda got one of those too, now," Sideswipe teased with a wicked grin. He reached up a hand, caressing Sunstreaker's chassis.

"Mirage? Well, yes. He's kinda lost. Since quite a few vorns actually." Sunstreaker buried his face into the crook of his brother's neck. "Stupid kid. Pining for me still..." he let his energy fields hum up against his brother's. 

"Mmmm," Sideswipe moaned, holding onto his twin, his own energy fields reacting and mingling with Sunstreaker's. "Maybe you just leave that good of an impression, bro." His hands moved up to his brother's helm, tracing the back of his twin's head crests.

The golden warrior shuddered with delight - the cautious fingers knew where to apply pressure, and the vibrations stimulated a few sensitive sensors just beneath the thin plating. 

"Of course I do, but- ehh. He's stupid. He'll get burned again and he'll learn." His hand crept down to his twin's waist. "Sides..." Only in moments like this was he able to relax completely. When he was alone with his better half, close as it as possible, sparks curling up against the protective plates, soothing each other even if they were not let out. 

Sideswipe tilted his head down, licking the edge of one of Sunstreaker's head crests. He tangled their legs together as he let his engine rumble, the vibrations shaking through both of their frames.

The red twin hoped it wouldn't happen. He wanted Sunny as happy as he was with Blue, and maybe the blue and white spy was the right mech for the job. And by the looks of it, Sunstreaker was going to have a tough time chasing Mirage off if not even nearly killing the younger mech could scare him away.

The artist offlined his optics and whirred a long sigh, tugging his brother on top of him. "My spark..." The endearment was softly spoken, the normally hard-edged voice filled with affection; that was the sweetest thing they could come up with since they understood what it really meant to be spark twins. Deft fingers skimmed over the connection point where Sideswipe normally had his rocket launcher attached. 

"Sunny," Sideswipe softly moaned as heat built in his own spark at the touch to the sensitive area. He kissed his brother as he rubbed his thumbs across the gold head crests.

The smooth chrome lips didn't want to let him go; Sunstreaker kissed back hungrily, like a deprived mech not wanting to let go of his cube. Moments like these were rare since the war started and the golden warrior - even if he never said it out loud - practically lived for them. In those red and black arms, he felt safe, wanted, cherished, _perfect_... He didn't need to push himself beyond his limits to be good enough. He was hundred percent sure that he was, and always will be the best for his beloved brother. His hands roamed on the frame leaning above him, teasing the hot spots with practiced ease. 

Sideswipe returned each of Sunstreaker's touches with his own. The pair knew one another's frames better than they did their own. His systems started heating as his energy fields raised in arousal. The door to his interface unit clicked open, his plug falling out.

"Sunny, my beloved spark," Sideswipe gasped out, pulling away for a moment from his brother's lips before diving back in, glossa roaming the insides of his brother's mouth, teasing sensitive circuits.

Sunstreaker snickered, and now pulled back a little bit from the kiss, optics sparkling playfully, like back then, when life was a lot easier in Kalis. "Sides... remember when I broke your seal...? After Stainless broke mine and I came home from the hospital..." He traced his brother's lips with a fingertip. His vents were humming steadily, betraying his arousal.

"Mmmhmm, I was so scared, thought that I was gonna wind up in the hospital too if I interfaced," Sideswipe answered. He stroked the side of his brother's helm and smiled. "You were a smooth talker even back then." Which really, no mech with a newly broken seal had a right to be.

Sunstreaker almost giggled at that and tightened his hold on his little brother - as he sometimes called him back then. "Sooo... he drawled, letting his own panel slide back to expose his ports, "perhaps you'd like to... break mine...?" His optics were still glowing brightly and honestly. Nowadays, only Sideswipe could behold that sight. The reinforced walls keeping his twin from falling apart seldom cracked.

Sideswipe affectionately pecked Sunstreaker on the lips, playful grin on his face. "Of course my dear brother." He grasped his plug, circling the entrance to his twin's port with the tip before inserting it. He held back the data stream bursting to go through for his brother. His thumb slid along to Sunstreaker's own plug, still tucked inside the interface unit. He brushed it along the edge and the tip just barely poking out of the surface.

"That hurt, you glitch," the golden mech pouted, tilting his head to the side a little. "I offer you my seal and you just push into me without even a comforting word." He couldn't hold back a rev of his engine when his brother touched his cable, though.

"Sorry Sunny, let me kiss and make it better," Sideswipe cooed locking lips with his golden twin once more. One hand continued petting his brother's helm, his other sliding back and forth across the bared plug. His engine purred, as he let just a trickle of the data stream through.

Sunstreaker arched up a bit, glossa entwining with his brother's, caressing, exploring, rubbing at the entire insides of the mouth. He let out a few tiny mewls as the impulses seeping through the cable inside him seeped into his systems, teasing him mercilessly. 

"S-Sides... Nnh-aah... plug... plug me in, too, please, dear brother...!" The need was whining in him, his spark fluttering restlessly in its casing. 

"'Course Sunny, wouldn't think to deny you," Sideswipe said truthfully. The red warrior gently grasped the plug connected to Sunstreaker, inserting it into his own port. He held back for only a moment, leaning down and kissing his twin once more before releasing his the data on his side of the connection, frame shuddering at the pleasure of his systems synching with his spark twin.

Immediately, he was assaulted by the answering impulses coming through the other side of the connection with the same intensity. Sunstreaker's hands began to quest for his brother's.

Black hands interlocked with gold. Sideswipe curled up into the frame under his, wordlessly whining into the mouth he was kissing as the energy between them built. He pressed closer to Sunstreaker, spark pulsing hotly in it's chamber.

Temperature was rising, warnings flashed, tertiary processors shut down and energy fields spiked. Sunstreaker moaned loudly, then his chestplates clicked open. 

"Sides..." he whispered, intakes gasping, "want you. All of you...!"

Sideswipe whimpered, his own panels sliding open until his spark was bared before his brother. "Always Sunny, you'll always have me," Sideswipe whispered.

"Thank you." The answer was choked, barely audible, but it was spoken. The golden warrior's spark was freed, and it leapt up, eager to meet his other half. Light-tendrils twined together and the two cores snuggled happily, swimming in the ecstasy of their unison. 

Sideswipe cried out as their sparks joined, coupled with their connected interface units. He writhed and mewled atop his brother, panting at the ever increasing heights of pleasure as their energies mingled.

"So good Sunny, feel so good, love you," Sideswipe babbled, kissing his spark twin.

"Y-yes, me too... Sides, little brother...! Sunstreaker's faceplates tensed in a seemingly painful expression - the pleasure almost hurt, it was so intense, so wonderful... The feeling of completeness made him dizzy, overjoyed; he wanted to break down and whine and laugh at the same time. It was sparkbreaking, it was perfect. Overload was rapidly drawing closer and be both dared and begged for the overwhelming wave to engulf him finally. 

Sideswipe shivered, nuzzling the side of Sunstreaker's faceplates affectionately. "Sunny, Sunny, Sunny," he chanted softly, hands tightening in Sunstreaker's, frame tensing as his overload approached. His spark swelled, his optics brightening and he screamed out his brother's name again as all the built up arousal released in a blinding overload.

Sunstreaker's frame went rigid the same moment; his optics widened, almost blazing white from the pure pleasure. His vocalizer emitted a loud static cry and the world exploded in white light and binary codelines for him. The surge spread out with the speed of light, running through each and every wire, setting the neuro-grid on fire. For several moments, he could only feel - feel as the sparks touched, caressing each other with amazing gentleness and love, shared the joy and the pain sealed inside them to double the former and half the latter. For a long-long moment, peace reigned; they were the center of the universe, in perfect balance. 

A blissful peace of post overload pervaded between the two. Sideswipe relaxed atop his brother, again nuzzling the side of gray faceplates. "So beautiful Sunny," the red twin murmured thumbs massaging the back of his brother's hands.

"And you're my mirror image," Sunstreaker whispered, tightening his hold on his brother's fingers. "I don't even deserve you, dearest little brother. My whole universe."

"Don't say that beloved big brother, you deserve love just as much as everyone else," Sideswipe replied, a hand coming up and cupping his brother's cheek. "I love you so much Sunny." His other hand snuck in-between them, gently disconnecting and closing their panels. His spark chamber remained open however, softly humming in the nearness of it's other half.

Sunstreaker leaned into the touch, offlining his optics and letting out a sparkling click. "Don't leave me Sides, please...! Never let go of me, without you, I'll die...!"

Sideswipe pressed closer against his brother, wrapping an arm around the distressed mech. "Never Sunny, I'd never leave you."

Finally, the proud, strong warrior looked up. He seemed so young in that moment; a sparkling he never quite was. "I love you, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe smiled gently at his brother, giving Sunstreaker a short, chaste kiss. "I know, bro. And I love you too, always."


	8. Intermezzo

Mirage's knee had finally healed enough that he could walk around the Ark again, although Ratchet still had him on light duty. The spy was still thankful he could get out of his quarters now.

The sight of Hound's late night self-ministrations still weighed heavily on his CPU. Now the idea of maybe trying to find someone for his poor friend was slowly starting to take shape. Unfortunately, despite the scout's likeable nature, Mirage didn't know if there was anyone interested in him, or if Hound was even interested in anyone else.

Fortune seemed to smile upon him as he saw the one mech who would probably know any of this leaving a just finished poker game. Mirage quickly caught up with Trailbreaker before the defense strategist could either be pulled aside by another friend or find himself busy with something else.

"Trailbreaker? May I speak with you moment, please?" Mirage asked as he got close to the larger mech. 

The tall dark mech stopped and smiled at the spy. "Naturally, Mirage. What's up?" 

"There's something I need to ask you, about Hound," Mirage said. His optics shifted around the rec room, everyone in it were far enough away that they couldn't overhear the conversation. 

Trailbreaker's visor dimmed a bit. "Hound? Of course... If I can help then I will." He gestured toward a table on the side. "Let's sit and tell me what the problem is." 

Mirage took a seat across from Trailbreaker. His hands fell to his lap, fingertips tapping together and betraying his nervousness. "Did Hound ever, ah, tell you about us? About the truth of our relationship?" He knew how close the pair were, Hound had once claimed there wasn't a single secret between the two. He wouldn't be surprised if the scout had told Trailbreaker that he wasn't actually with Mirage. 

"Yes, he did." The dark mech nodded, fingertip tracing patterns on the smooth surface. "Quite a few times, actually. He told me you were good friends and got along splendidly as roommates but you weren't able to return his feelings. He never accused you with anything, though." 

"He wouldn't," Mirage said softly, optics dimming. "I'm afraid I never quite realized the extent of his feelings for me. I'm a little concerned for him." 

"What, that he would have offered his spark on a silver platter for you...?" Trailbreaker scowled. "Welcome among the simple mechs, Mirage. Be happy you haven't seen him after he got to know that you hooked up with Sunshine." 

"He told you about that..." Mirage shouldn't have been surprised. Again, they told each other everything, and even if Hound didn't directly say it, Trailbreaker could have figured it out anyway. "I never meant to hurt him Trailbreaker." 

"I'm not going to accuse you," the dark mech folded his arms, "even thought I personally think you'd deserve that, because I know Hound wouldn't want me to. But, I hope you realize now how many other mechs your decisions affect one way or another. I'm not happy about this whole situation, either." 

"I want to try to make amends to him. Do you know if... anyone has shown interest in Hound? I was hoping..." Speaking of his plan was far more difficult than he thought. "That there was someone else, who could appreciate him, make him happy. I hate seeing him in pain for my rejection." 

There was silence for a while; Trailbreaker watched the happily chatting mechs at the poker table. Wheeljack was winning. 

"At the moment... I couldn't name anybody, who would have an interest in him; most mechs here see him more like a dear friend." He looked back at the spy. "Aside me." 

Apparently they did have some secrets. "You love Hound?" Mirage asked, feeling guilt once more. He really did seem to make a lot of choices that brought pain to others. 

"Funny, isn't it." The strategist lowered his head. "While he was faithfully waiting for you, I was waiting for him... I offered everything I had, my friendship, comfort... I kept praying to Primus to open your eyes and see what a wonderful thing you keep pushing away." 

"But I'm not with him, I probably never will be with him. Couldn't you tell Hound of how you feel? If you don't, I don't know how long it will be before he stops loving me." 

"He will love you until you bond your sparks with Sunstreaker," Trailbreaker growled, thought he was more resigned than angry. "Now he's waiting for Sunshine to trample on you so you'll go crawling back to Hound. And it's not always easy to tell the one you love, how deeply you care about him. You know me. Low self-esteem." 

"I don't know what else to do for him. I hate seeing him in pain, and I can't return his love," Mirage sad, clenching his hands in frustration. 

"If Sunstreaker throws you away, what will you do?" 

The very thought ate at his spark. After trying for so long to gain the golden artist's love, to lose it was frightening. "I... don't know. But I don't think he will." He was getting rather tired of trying to justify himself. 

"Hmmh. I'll... try to make Hound see that you'll never love him back they way he wants you to. Just don't ask me to confess. I won't be able to force anything out of my vocalizer." The tall, broad-framed mech hung his head - he was sort of adorable like that, so unsure of himself. 

"I hope you eventually can tell him," Mirage said with an encouraging smile. "Thank you for the help, Trailbreaker." 

"For what it's worth," the taller mech nodded. He stood and tapped at the table. "I should go now, Prowl wanted to see me... security cameras, we need a few more of them. Good luck with everything." 

"Thank you. You have my well wishes," Mirage said, nodding in farewell to the departing mech. 

A little while later, he decided to leave, too, however, he didn't get too far; a hand grabbed his wrist and wrenched him into a shady corner. He was pushed against the wall and a bright frame pressed against his. 

"Hello there, sex on wheels." 

Mirage smiled up at the golden warrior pressing him against the wall. "Hello to you as well, beautiful," the spy greeted, hands loosely holding onto the arms trapping him in the corner. He didn't really mind though. 

"I thought I'll tell; tonight, we'll be having a little get-together, Sides, Blue and I," the warrior said. "Having fun if you're catching my drift. If you think you won't offline at the sight of such impropriety or awesomeness, then you can sit in the corner and watch. If you don't wanna join, that is." 

Mirage snorted inelegantly. "Wouldn't be my first multi-mech interface." He leaned up and kissed Sunstreaker briefly. "I think I would like to join you three." 

"Dear Primus, where's the elegant and proper Mirage I got to know...?" Sunstreaker lamented. "All I see is a..." he leaned to the spy's audios, "dirty, shameless slut who'd bare his interface port to any stray mech... I'll have to punish such behavior." His agile hand slipped to Mirage's back, tracing the line of the spinal chord sensually. 

Mirage clutched at Sunstreaker, optics brightening as his back strut shivered from the attention and at the words. "Only at my lover's behest," the spy purred into Sunstreaker's audio. "I can be chaste, immoral, clean, or as dirty as you want." 

Sunstreaker cocked an optic ridge as he pulled back a bit. "Seriously. Who are you and what have you done to Mirage...?" 

"I... kind of got caught up in the moment," Mirage said, systems heating in embarrassment, realizing they were in a public place with mechs that could see them. His father had used to call him a crystal personality, able to absorb any other and display it for himself. A useful trait for a mech learning to take over his family's business. "I thought that's what you wanted to hear." 

Sunstreaker hummed. "Sorta. I was just surprised to actually hear it. You've got to fill me in about your exploits back between me and the war. I thought you'll be embarrassed or something... Anyway." He pressed his lips against the spy's for a long, deep kiss, then grinned at him. "Okay, then tonight. Our room, at 9 pm sharp." 

"Of course Sunstreaker, I wouldn't dream of being late," Mirage said, hands idly petting the warrior's sides. 

The golden mech winked at his lover then pushed himself away from him and walked off.

Neither of them noticed the small red mech peeking from behind the corner, watching them with narrowed optics. 

After Sunstreaker was out of his sight Mirage commed into the duty roster to check when he was on shift. Apparently he had monitor duty in twenty minutes and left to relieve Brawn from the ever CPU numbing task of watching security monitors.


	9. Heat

Mirage stood outside the Twins' door, hand poised to knock. He glanced to his left at the swish sound of another door, but saw nothing, just more closed doors. He'd had a nervous churning feeling in his fuel pump since he got off shift. It had felt like everyone was staring at him, or more accurately, glaring at him. Of course whenever he looked back at his comrades they were all looking away. It was still unnerving.

/No matter/ Mirage thought as he took in a deep intake to loosen his frame. He was just visiting friends, for a night of interface granted, but no one else knew that. And even if they did, it shouldn't matter, they were all grown consenting mechs, there was nothing wrong with it. He rapped lightly on the door, alerting the residents inside to his presence. 

It slid open and a gorgeous golden mech was smiling at him. "Ooh, Hello Mirage. Come, step into this vault of sin!" With a chuckle, a golden hand grabbed his wrist and promptly wrenched the spy inside. The door closed, and Mirage found himself facing a grinning Sides and a slightly nervous Bluestreak. The artist had him in a secure arm-lock, trapping the blue and white mech's arms effectively.

"Look at this, gentlemechs... A whole new piece of chassis, just for our enjoyment!" He gave the spy's audio receptor a quick kiss. 

Mirage's systems heated, from either embarrassment or arousal he wasn't quite sure, maybe both. He squirmed in the firm hold Sunstreaker had him in. "Um, Sunstreaker, do you think you could allow me free use of my arms? It's not like I plan on running away." 

"Patience, my dear," the golden warrior cooed, and he indeed loosened his hold a little. "I just wanted to show you to the others... After all, they'll see you a few times. You see, we were just discussing what to do tonight... Last time, my brother and I were quite... active, so now, we'd like to relax a bit... And see a nice show." 

Sideswipe's grin widened as he slung an arm around Bluestreak's shoulders, the Datsun's doorwings fluttering in nervous anticipation. His hand smoothly rubbed up and down the gray mech's upper arm. "Any particular ideas you had in mind for our adorable bottoms, dear brother?" He playfully teased.

"Hmm... I don't know..." Sunstreaker released Mirage's arms but curled his own golden ones around the spy's waist. "This one here is top quality... A really refined thing. I won't mind to see him performing for his master..." He looked at his Twin. "He came off as quite a brave one for me before, so we could put them both into the role of our servants. And they can perform then with each other. How about that?" 

Sideswipe's grin turned devious, fingers trailing down Bluestreak's wing. "Sounds delightful, Sunny. How 'bout it Blue?" Sideswipe purred into his lover's audio.

A shiver ran down Mirage's backstrut, systems flushing at the thought of being under servitude of Sunstreaker. He would have found humor in the irony of a former noblemech playing slave to a mech of lower class, if his spark weren't hammering in it's chamber. 

Bluestreak twitched and he stared at his lover a bit distressed. "B-but Sides, are you sure we should do this? I mean, Mirage is, well, he's never been with me and he's not like me, he just likes Sunny and h-he's, I mean, he was from the Towers..." he glanced at Mirage, uneasily. "D-does he want to...? With... me?" 

Mirage gave the young gunner a reassuring smile. "Only if you're comfortable with it Bluestreak. I'd be willing to try it." If neither of them found it arousing, he was prepared to tell Sunstreaker and Sideswipe that they should try something else. 

"Well then..." Sunstreaker gave a gentle push to the spy; he walked to his brother and making sure the other two would get a good look at them, he kissed Sideswipe, long and deeply. "Slaves have their place on the floor, at the berth's foot," He purred and he settled down comfortably. "Go, sweet Blue, break in our newest pet. Make sure you show him what his task will be... Teach him." 

Mirage cautiously followed Bluestreak to the foot of a berth, smoothly sliding to the floor. His legs rested under him, his forearms lying symmetrically along his thighs. He gave Bluestreak an uncertain look, silently asking the Datsun to lead the way. 

The gunner pulled closer; less gracefully but just as nervous. And when he was nervous, he babbled. "It's okay, Mirage, I know it's awkward but the- uhh, masters are nice and they won't do you any harm, promise. I was kinda like this back then when Sideswipe brought me to their room, but it turned out quite okay." He timidly ran a hand along the blue arms. "You're a pretty mech, Mirage, I'll go on slow, okay? So you can get used to it, and enjoy it because, well, Sides always says I'm quite good in 'facin." He glanced at the Lambos, and at Sunstreaker's urging gesture, he tried to settle more into role. "So... Y-you know how it goes? Interfacing I mean. Because well, you're a slave and Sunstreaker surely bought you because you were so pretty but if you don't know how to please him then he might get angry and he's pretty scary when angry, I mean, very pretty even when angry, but you don't want to get on his wrong side, trust me. So it's important that you know about... stuff." 

"Of course," Mirage replied. "I would like to please our masters, especially Master Sunstreaker," his optics flickered a darker blue as he looked over to Sunstreaker as he called him by the title. "It was generous of him to take me away from the slave pens, it is quite lonely there without one to serve. If you need help with places I like to be touched, my knee and elbow joints are very sensitive, and I love the feel of vibrations along the main structures of my frame. And you... your model's door wings and chevrons are sensitive, yes?" He asked with a coy smile, head tilted towards his chest. 

There was an appreciative whirr from the direction of the twins, and Bluestreak's vents hitched. Damn that Towerling, he was good at this whole business. He reached out and ran his thumb over the curve of the blue helm. "Yes, that's correct, doorwings, chevrons; and my headlights are hot spots, too, and a spot on the base of the back of my neck." His other hand curled around Mirage's elbow-joint, rubbing slowly, and he leaned closer. "You seem to be very well-trained and well-trained slaves are usually good kissers, too, so I'd like to see some demonstration." He was actually a bit curious as well; he had learned long ago, that each Bot tastes differently, all of them have unique energy-patterns. How will Mirage taste? 

"It would be my pleasure." Mirage slowly leaned in, engaging Bluestreak in a kiss, deepening it after a few moments and they got used to kissing each other. The spy's engine purred as a thumb passed over the vents in his helm while his elbow joint was massaged. His free arm came up, hand cupping the back of Bluestreak's neck and applying some light pressure to the base. 

Bluestreak's engine revved up as well once Mirage found that certain spot - the gray mech never figured it out, just why it felt so insanely good when somebody tapped at that bundle of wires, but oh Primus, it was wonderful. He moaned into the kiss and deepened it a bit, offlining his optics; he was warming up, and it was nice. Mirage was somehow... adaptive, fitting into every situation well. His armor was so smooth under the gunner's hands, he couldn't resist rubbing it harder, his other hand continuing to fondle the helm. 

Mirage gasped into the mouth on his, falling back limp until he hit the wall with Bluestreak kneeling on top of him. The hand connected to the elbow receiving that lovely pressure from Bluestreak's grip twitching at each firm rub. His knees came up, framing either side of the gray body. "Harder, Blue, please," he pleaded breathlessly, lapsing into using the gunner's nickname, something he rarely did. He quickly captured the younger mech's lips again, deepening the kiss. 

On the berth, Sunstreaker poked his bother. "Hey... A Towerling shouldn't look this... thrilled by the idea of getting on with the first bot, now should he...?" His optics never left the pretty sight, though. 

"Maybe he just really likes interfacing," Sideswipe murmured, systems heating as he watched the two younger mechs moving against each other. Or the blue and white mech liked Sunstreaker enough he'd like any kind of interface that could please the golden twin. "Didn't you say that you were the first partner he's had in vorns? Probably has a lot of pent up energy to burn off." 

Sunstreaker pouted. Actually, his biggest problem was that Mirage came so soon to be at ease with Bluestreak. He was jealous, even if he was not going to say it. Mirage was supposed to love him, worship him, beg for the pleasure the golden artist could deliver... Not rub off the paint from the gunner's chassis...! To hide his slight anger, Sunstreaker kissed his twin, caressing the black helm. 

Bluestreak whined from pleasure and a bit reluctantly, but he pulled away, just to take the spy's leg between his hands and run a glossa against the knee-joint's refined metal. 

"M-Mirage, you're so pretty, and responsive and you beg so beautifully...! Master Sunstreaker won't ever let you out of his room...! T-touch my wings, please, rub them, especially the joints...!" 

Mirage's hands quickly fell to Bluestreak's doorwings, rubbing along the joints in firm and easy circles. "I-I hope not. I hope he never lets me go. I want so bad to please Master Sunstreaker, I... I'd do anything for him." 

The golden artist's engine revved up and he covered his lower chest with his hand. Wow... This really sounded nice... 

Bluestreak gently pushed Mirage's hands up above his head and continued rubbing the elbow-joints, while he nibbled on the struts of the neck. While he was there, he whispered into the spy's audio-receptors. "Look at him while I pleasure you, he'll surely like that, and call his name, that always makes him all worked up and restless." 

Mirage nodded almost imperceptibly, head falling back to look at Sunstreaker and bear his neck further to Bluestreak. He whimpered, hands twitching restly in the gunner's hold. "M-Master Sunstreaker," he moaned, voice falling to a soft cry. 

The warrior's optics were wide, drinking in the display of wanton beauty before him. Bluestreak was ravishing that slender blue chassis, and Mirage... Mirage was looking at him, practically begging, aroused and needy... He could see the soft tremors wrencking the spy's frame, the parting lips shone in the light, the optics darkened and dimmed... Sunstreaker's vents growled loudly and he squirmed, torn between watching the show further or interrupt and practically shag Mirage into some steady surface, wall, floor, berth, whatever. 

Another press of fingers delving into his elbow joints had him curling into the body against his as he called out plaintively. "Oh, oh that feels so good. Please, more. Master S-Sunstreeeakeeer-" his vocalizers fell to a static filled whine. 

And that was it. Sunstreaker slipped off the berth with a snarl; he closed the distance with a long stride and roughly shoved Bluestreak aside. He hauled Mirage up and pressed him against the wall. His own panel snapped open and he hissed at the spy. "Open, now! You thought somebody else can give you pleasure if you squirm like a cybercat in heat? You filthy one-night mech...! I'll show you real interfacing...!" 

Mirage trembled in the strong hold, whimpering, although none of it in fear of the warrior pressed against him. "Yes Master Sunstreaker," he panted, panel obediently falling open, plug lolling out like a limp rag doll. 

The golden warrior grabbed it and promptly pushed it into his port, then connected his own cable and immediately, he lashed out with his impulses, assaulting the spy's system.

Bluestreak, after he was rolled off Mirage, crawled to the berth and nuzzled Sideswipe's leg. 

Sideswipe started petting the gray helm of his lover, paying special attention to the red chevron mounted on it. "C'mon up here, Pretty Blue," he cooed, pulling the gunner up onto the berth. He rolled over atop Bluestreak, engine revving as he nuzzled the younger mech's face and fondled his doorwings.

Mirage on the other hand was shrieking in a mixture of pain and ecstasy at the hard and fast connection Sunstreaker had established, writhing in the warrior's hold at the constant data streams and energy coursing through between their systems. "Master, more, more Master Sunstreaker." 

The golden twin ground his frame hard against Mirage's and doubled his efforts; his own systems were shrieking under the tension but he was damned if he didn't make the spy overload first...! 

Bluestreak was calmer, though aroused; he smiled at his red and black lover and bared his interface port, pushing the cable out. "Take it, Sides, please, and plug in, I want you... really-really want you..." 

"'Course Blue," Sideswipe murmured plugging Bluestreak into himself before inserting his own plug into the gunner. He arched and held onto Bluestreak as the flow of data crashed into him. He held onto his lover, panting and groaning at the quickly rising pleasure, this wouldn't last very long for either of them.

Mirage's back scraped against the wall as Sunstreaker ground against his front. "Sun... Sunstreaker, oh, oh," Mirage moaned, feeling the surge of energy signaling impending overload. His frame tensed up in the warrior's hold until it released and he cried out, calling out Sunstreaker's name until his vocalizer was sore. 

His lover soon followed, with deep static moans, shuddering from his own surge; as it ebbed away, he slumped against Mirage and curled his arms around the elegant frame. His system hummed with satisfaction. "You are one kinky turbofox," he murmured as soon as he thought the spy would be able to hear him. "I like that." 

Mirage smiled up at Sunstreaker, optics glittering from the post overload. "I aim to please," he said lightly. His own arms came to rest on Sunstreaker's shoulders as he laid his helm against the golden chest of his lover, tucking his head under the other mech's chin.

The sound of another pair overloading reached his audio, but he thought it best to give Sideswipe and Bluestreak a little bit of their own privacy. And he wanted to savor the warmth of the frame against his as he listened to the hum of systems under his audio.


	10. Gossip

Mirage idly tapped his fingers against the monitor console, glancing back and forth between each camera. He had honestly never wanted to get out of the Ark as much as he had now, stuck on his second day of light duty. Which of course meant, all he could do all day was watch the monitors because that was the lightest duty on the Ark.

He flipped through each camera sound channel, as per protocol, listening for ten seconds for any suspicious sounds before changing. At least until he caught something that made his hand freeze on the switch to change to the next channel.

"Should've expected as much out of a _Towers_ raised socialite. Fraggers are all self-entitled, stuck up scrap heaps anyway." He should feel guilty for eavesdropping, if it wasn't him they were talking about. After all, he was the only 'Towers raised socialite'. 

Huffer, the resident pessimist of the Ark kept on poking Teletraan, while Brawn tweaked something inside. "Who would've thought...?" he mused. "He looked like such a nice youngling. And Hound was so into him... It was sparkwarming to see how he looked at that Towerling. And what did he get in return...? Mirage 'facin' with Sunshine. Seriously, that Bot gives me the creeps at times. No idea what others see in him..." 

"Aside the oh-so-finely-crafted chassis, the radiant paintjob and his delicate artist hands...?" Huffer wiggled his fingers to get his point across, even though Brawn didn't see him. "Mirage just goes for the outside, Hound's simple looks didn't suit him." 

Mirage sunk in his chair. That wasn't true, yes Sunstreaker was more attractive looking than Hound, but that wasn't what made Mirage love him. It was... nothing short of complicated, his love for the artist. But it was never for shallow reasons of appearances. He should have tuned them out, but his attention was riveted as the gossiping mechs continued. 

"I just wonder if he'll eventually try to have his way with every mech on the Ark," Huffer went on.

"You're hoping that, don't you?" Brawn sounded sarcastic. Huffer shrugged.

"Well, if he only wants to hand out an overload... Though, who knows what kinda viruses such a high-class escortbot could have gathered? Y'know what? If it downs Sunshine, all the better! Then Prowl will declare Towerling a security risk, and Ratchet will have to purge his systems. I hope I'll be around to laugh!"

"Huffer?"

"Yes?"

"Shut it. You're making me want to empty my fuel tank all over Teletraan." 

Mirage switched quickly from the channel, hands shaking at Huffer's words. It was rather frightening to hear such things come from someone who he had to work and fight beside. He felt a little sick at how... _delighted_ Huffer had been at the idea.

Just his luck, he turned to a channel with Cliffjumper, surrounded by several other Ark members as he recounted something for them. The sick feeling returned as he listened in. 

"I swear to Primus it's true!" The red minibot was nearly flailing. "I've seen it with my own optics!"

"Jumper, stop the slag-stirring!" Jazz said, his arms folded. "It's their private life, we don't have any right to do anything!"

"It's not that we do anything," Ironhide shook his head. "Honestly? I think it's all Sunstreaker's doing. I have seen those two back then...! Sunstreaker was so riled up, two of the security Bots needed to drag him off of Mirage, and believe, be they were NOT 'facin'."

"This doesn't make sense, Cliffjumper…!" Wheeljack protested, shaking his head. "You heard Ironhide." 

"But they were kissing! Sunstreaker had him against the wall and they were groping each other like no tomorrow! Seriously, you trust Mirage? He was a Tower mech and you know where Tower mechs are now!"

"Just 'cause some joined the Con side, it doesn't mean 'Raj is a traitor or somethin'." Jazz shook his head. "Seriously, 'Jumper, this is getting ridiculous." 

Mirage felt some ease in his spark at the defense of his friends. Well, Ironhide had him a little worried, but unless he was either hurt, or made a complaint, Sunstreaker wouldn't see any brig time. Neither of which were going to happen as far as Mirage was concerned.

Windcharger intervened on the group. Mirage felt another moment of dread realizing the minibot's room was right next to the Twins'. "I think 'Jumper's telling the truth. Last night I saw Mirage outside the Twins' quarters. Now I'm rather thankful the walls're all soundproof." 

"I still can't believe..." Wheeljack shook his head. "Mirage is such a nice mech, and they seemed so happy with Hound...! Why the sudden change of spark?" 

"I can shake it out of Sunshine..." Ironhide cracked his knuckles. 

"Primus, what are you, Autobot soldiers or bored femmes?" Jazz snapped. "Just stop the gossip already, it's none of our business! 'Jumper, next time I catch you ranting, you'll be cleaning the washracks for three dekacycles! And now I'm out. Somebody has work to do." It was a bit frightening to see how he _stomped_ out... Jazz hardly ever lost his cool. 

Mirage mulled over the talk. Perhaps he could... what? Announce to the Ark he hadn't been with Hound? Humiliate the poor mech for his own sake? He and Sunstreaker could handle such talk, particularly Sunstreaker who would give as good as he got if anyone confronted him. Although he would have to make sure Ironhide kept his overprotective nose out of it.

No, it was better to keep silent of him and Hound; if only to keep others from thinking the dear scout pitiful for holding out for so long a mech who doesn't love him. Perhaps it was even his penance for leading Hound on, it seemed rather fitting. 

The next few days made Mirage feel like there was a time bomb ticking somewhere, ready to explode. He could feel the glances the others were throwing at him.

Finally, one evening, most of the Ark's off-duty crew was gathered in the rec room for another party of poker. Jazz was dealing the cards; the usual gang invited Hound, too, and the scout accepted. Sunstreaker was there as well and he settled down with Mirage, pulling a few literature pads from subspace. 

Jazz gathered his own cards, then tossed a few chips to the middle. "Okay gentlemechs, place your bets. And no cheating!"

"Yeah, Autobots don't cheat," Cliffjumper chimed in from the other table where he was sharing a cube with Bumblebee. "That's a Con thing to do." 

Mirage winced, slowly covering his face with the pad and focusing on the words rather than Cliffjumper. "And what would you call the deception of poker Cliffjumper? Hiding what you know from others, privately thinking one thing while displaying another?" Mirage asked calmly. 

Yes, he was riling the minibot, but the little glitch deserved it. The spy may be willing to accept the talk, but he would still hold his resentment for it. 

"Switching cards, for example," the small but feisty warrior shot back. "Once you have a four, you can't switch it for an Ace. It's just not done."

"Mechs," Jazz warned. "Some of us want to play here." 

"I apologize Jazz, perhaps I should leave the discussions of morality out of recreational time," Mirage said soothingly. "Maybe in front of the Ark's security camera's for instance," he muttered low enough to not be heard by the surrounding mechs. 

Sunstreaker, however, caught the comment. "What the frag is this about...?" he growled silently. "I feel like something is burning my plating since some two orns..." He shot a suspicious glance at the bots absorbed in the game. 

Mirage went back to ignoring the fiery glances of the other bots at him and Sunstreaker. "So, Sunstreaker, in Dumas' 'Count of Monte Cristo', what were your feelings on Dantes' forgiving of Danglars? And how fate dealt Danglers a final justice and made him suffer the same as the man he wronged?" 

"Mmh. Well, at that point, Edmond achieved everything, so it was easy to be generous. And besides, for a merchant, Danglars is left with little to nothing. I can understand Edmond's reasoning though; he was forced to see that innocents got involved into his plans as well. That is not acceptable, thought the death of Heloise's son is something he could not foresee." 

"The perils of revenge I'm afraid, there will always be innocent bystanders. There are many things none of us could ever anticipate." The dual feelings of regret and elation for the pain he caused Hound, but finally getting Sunstreaker warring in his spark.

"I'd say it was more like some unfortunate circumstances," Sunstreaker argued. "Heloise was unstable and thus unpredictable, but Edmond didn't know about it. If he had any idea, he might have steered things into another direction. His plans were executed flawlessly, and he took care to help all those, who deserved it. Really, it's up to how smart you are, and how closely you can monitor the progress of your plans. Dantes didn't have any advanced technology – come to think of it, it's quite stunning how primitive his age was…"

"Human technology is still rather primitive in comparison to us Sunstreaker. Although it seems that revenge, instead of being a dish best served cold, as the human saying goes, seems more like a dish best left simple, if not untouched. At least if Dumas' work is anything to go by." 

"Sure we read the same book?" the warrior cocked an optic ridge. "The whole Monte Cristo is about a guy, who lives for revenge and executes it with a real flair, and it's a fragging enjoyable way on top of that. It's amazing what sharp wit Dantes displays, and what intricate ways he uses. And at the end, he hooks up with Haydee and sails away into the sunset." 

"Yes, the revenge was well executed, aside the lost life of an innocent. Perhaps I just dwell too much on the negatives of things," Mirage replied blithely. "It was satisfying to see Dantes finally receive his own peace of mind and chance for happiness." 

"Even we fight for our vengeance," Sunstreaker pointed out. "All of us have a score to settle and eventually, every loss traces back to Megatron. All this war... is nothing else but a long-winded vendetta." 

"Fight or die, not much of a choice, is it? And hope along the way the ones who wronged you meet an unfortunate fate," Mirage mused. Huffer gave a suspiciously false cough. 

"And the more you take down, the more good you do to others. No Con is innocent." The golden warrior smirked darkly. 

"None but the newly sparked are ever truly faultless or innocent," Mirage replied.

"Know all about that, wouldn't you, Mirage?" Cliffjumper quipped with a scowl. Beside him, Bumblebee elbowed the red minibot harshly in the side. 

"Got a problem, Red?" Sunstreaker snarled at the small-framed warrior. His plating was itching, and it annoyed him immensely that he had no idea why. "'Raj, we could go to your room or ours... the air smells like plasma here." 

"Yes... perhaps that would be best," Mirage said, optics flickering in doubt as he gave the minibot a last look, refraining from a flinch as Huffer spoke up.

"Don't let your discussions get too loud, you might bother your neighbors!" 

Jazz covered his visor, mumbling to himself; Ironhide couldn't suppress a snicker. Sunstreaker glared at them then shrugged. "I think they're just... frustrated." He leered at the minibots and grinned when Bumblebee's vents hummed up in embarrassment. 

"Heh. Come, Mirage." 

Mirage nodded mutely, clutching his literacy pad harder than necessary as he stiffly walked out of the rec room, following Sunstreaker. Maybe if he hid in his quarters long enough, they'd all forget he existed... 

Poor Hound was squirming in the seat; he sensed the tension and noticed the glances thrown at Mirage and Sunstreaker, and him, too; though those were nice, compassionate ones. He knew something was up with the three of them, he just had no idea exactly what. Well, aside the obvious. 

As the couple reached Sunstreaker's room, Mirage settled himself on the golden twin's berth. He bowed his head, hands covering his face as he slumped. The Towers born mech was just too humiliated and mentally exhausted to try to keep himself poise and proper.

"Primus, is subtly not programmed into anyone here?" Mirage lamented with a groan. 

"Care to enlighten me?" Sunstreker put his hand on his hips. "I KNOW there's slag. I can smell it. But I don't know where it is. I'm getting the feeling it's smeared on my back and that's why everybody avoids me like some rusted beggar." 

"Apparently Cliffjumper spied us the morning you invited me here and spread it across the Ark. Our reputations summarily plummeted to the level of petro-rats." 

Sunstreaker snorted arrogantly. "Like what the frag- ooh, wait, I think I'm getting it. So now I'm the big bad mech who seduced the pretty Mirage, and pretty Mirage is the fragger who let himself be seduced. And dearest Hound is a martyr. Primus, if those annoying journalist were here, they'd lubricate themselves from joy." 

"Pretty much. With some slight differences between the views on us depending on the mech. They gossip, but it's... mostly not as bad. Although Cliffjumper seems bound and determined to rally everyone to think that our adulterous relationship hints that we're a few short steps from being Decepticons. They have at least seen that as ludicrous." 

Sunstreaker's faceplates tensed. "Little glitch never forgets, never forgives and never learns. One of these days, I'll just frag him, if for no other reason than to prove him right about my allegiance... So he'd die happily." He turned away and began to pace idly. "So he still thinks I- Bah. The smaller the stature, the bigger the stupidity. Little scrapheap... Like he has an idea...!" 

Mirage rose from the berth, walking over to Sunstreaker and placing a light touch on his arm, turning the angry warrior to face him. "Please don't do anything rash, Sunstreaker. I know he deserves it, but I don't want to see you punished for attacking Cliffjumper. It's not worth it." 

"It won't be the first occasion," the golden warrior smiled back darkly. "He loathes us both and whenever he starts to run his vocalizer and spew slag about us, we frag him, the same way you whack a turbohound when it gnaws at your furniture. Only difference is, turbohounds actually learn from the beating." 

"Hurting them isn't going to make them stop talking, it'll only add fuel to the fire. Maybe I just shouldn't have told you," Mirage said doubtfully, letting his hand fall as he looked at the ground. "It's really only words, they'll find something else of interest sooner or later to gossip about." 

"Especially if it's up to Cliffjumper," the golden artist hissed. "Not that I've ever wanted to make it up to him or prove myself or anything, but seriously, how many Cons do I have to kill until he notices that I'm not one of them?" 

"I'm not sure we can prove ourselves to the likes of Cliffjumper. But most of the Ark doesn't think of you like that. Optimus certainly doesn't or he never would have invited you on this mission. Sideswipe and Bluestreak trust you, as do I." Mirage slowly stroked the side of Sunstreaker's arm, looking hopefully up at the warrior. 

"Not enough," Sunstreaker said curtly. "Optimus is a trusting fool, and you are all biased. You're helm over heels into me." 

Mirage sighed, letting his hand fall away again. "Well, I suppose you'll have to settle with that, it's the best you have at the moment. Can you at least try not to let the others get to you? Especially Cliffjumper? It'll cause more problems than it'll solve if you hurt anyone." 

"I don't make promises. I don't fancy solitary in the brig or scraping slag from the washracks anytime soon, but if that red menace pisses me off, I'll send him to the medbay and not without a good reason." He took Mirage's hands and curled them around his waist. "Who told you to stop?" he murmured, and kissed the spy. 

Mirage smiled, returning the kiss. He rubbed slow circles on Sunstreaker's hips as he slowly pressed himself chassis to chassis with the golden artist. 

The golden twin caressed the blue helm with a sigh. There were moments, when he almost believed this could work... But he knew something will happen, a gossip, a wrong step, a flawed decision... And everything will end up in darkness and pain. 

As one hand continued its ministrations, the other started giving long strokes down Sunstreaker's back strut. "Just you and me, handsome," Mirage murmured a breath away from his lover's lips. 

With a shuddering sigh, the warrior succumbed to the moment. He pressed his lips against the spy's and kissed him, trying to lose himself in the contact, like he did with his brother... It didn't quite work. But it wasn't a bad feeling. 

Mirage's mouth fell open, inviting Sunstreaker's glossa into it as his arm rose higher. He rubbed between the golden warrior's shoulders, easing tension out of the plating. His fingers delved slightly between a seam in Sunstreaker's waist, teasing the circuits along it and brushing along the cables just underneath. 

The warrior shivered and a tiny moan escaped his vocalizer as he lightly slumped against the spy. "If you want 'facing, you only have to say it..." he grumbled, but he didn't sound angry or accusing at all. 

"Actions speak louder than words," Mirage said with an impish smile. "Yes I would like to, Sunstreaker." Besides, if everyone was already thinking it was what they were doing, might as well. 

"Then sit on that berth.. And keep your voice down, we wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors, now do we?" Sunstreaker smirked. 

"With soundproof walls?" Mirage asked with a playful grin as he backed away to obediently sit on the berth. "I'm not sure I can scream loud enough to accomplish that." 

Sunstreaker's grin turned utterly wicked. "Now I'm tempted to find a way... Maybe if I asked Wheeljack. He's kinky enough to come up with some gadget which might heighten the experience..." 

"Oh Primus, I've given him a challenge," Mirage muttered in amusement. "Just remember, you get to explain to Ratchet why he has to fix my vocalizer after it breaks from strenuous over use." 

"But wouldn't it be worth it..."


	11. Revealed

Sometimes, Mirage questioned if Primus loved all his children the same. 

Just when his knee healed, the Decepticons launched an attack on a human facility. They were beaten back, slowly but steadily despite the rather bad conditions - fire, smoke, fumes, even acid, which didn't exactly hurt, but itched. a roving shot fried Mirage's electro disruptor, too, and if it weren't for the help... He might be deactivated now, for a Seeker spotted him and quickly decided to use the blue mech for target practice. 

The spy zipped along the ground in his alt-mode, more thankful than ever for Teletraan-1 giving him a race car for travel. That is until he realized it was rather futile to race against a jet that could teleport. Skywarp's grinning visage appeared before him, a well placed shot taking out his front tire before he could avoid it.

Mirage transformed, gun already pulled out of subspace and pointed at Skywarp. Just as he got a shot off, the Decepticon teleported again and the whine of a laser rifle preceded a burning pain in his shoulder. He whirled around, firing off another shot, and missing before he was again shot at, this one hitting him in the side. The third shot hit him in the knee, the same one that had just mended. _/How funny/_ Mirage wryly thought before falling to the ground.

A black and purple seeker heel kicked him in the chest, sending the injured spy to sprawl on the ground. Before he could raise his own rifle to shoot again, a foot fell on his wrist, trapping it. And unfortunately he hadn't reloaded his shoulder missile before Skywarp had engaged him in a game of 'laser fire tag', so he was weaponless, and thus defenseless.

The foot pressed harder onto his wrist, forcing a small hiss of pain, because that was all he would allow, past his lips. "Hmm, always thought you'd give me more of a fight than this, Autobot. I guess you Tower raised mechs are all just sparked prisses," the seeker said with a malicious grin as he pointed his laser rifle at Mirage's spark chamber. "Say hi to all the Towerlings for me." 

And that was when help came in the form of a golden angel of wrath. With a battle cry, Sunstreaker launched at the Decepticon with the aid of his jetpack, tackling him to the ground. 

"So you like to shoot, Seekerlet?" He grinned at the surprised flier. "So do I. And competition makes e cranky." He promptly took hold on the purple hand and simply tore it off. Skywarp howled from the pain and curled up, momentarily disoriented, and the golden warrior swept Mirage up in his arms and ran off. He threw the spy over a crumbled wall and jumped above it, immediately crouching down and continuing to shooting Cons. "Ratchet will not like that," he mentioned casually, not even looking at the spy. "Can you treat it yourself?" 

Even trying to twitch either of his arms sent sparks of pain that nearly sent him into stasis. Mirage cringed, looking up at Sunstreaker apologetically. "I'm afraid not. I think he shot out the support strut in my shoulder and my hand is refusing to work." He glanced down at the crumpled, sparking wrist lying limply at his side. Skywarp had effectively disabled both of his arms. 

"Oooh. Kinky Seekers," Sunstreaker commented and after two more shots, he ducked behind the wall. He pulled out the medkit and began to tend to the wound. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, voice barely audible above the battle's noise. 

"I am now," Mirage said with a small smile. "Thank you Sunstreaker. I would have been dead without you." 

"You still could be..." the golden twin grumbled, quickly stopping the leak. "The damage is too extensive, this won't hold for long. Pfft, why am I always getting stuck with the one who fragged himself. We'll need backup. And this fragging battle to end." He tapped at his helm. "Ratchet! Ratch, can you hear me? No, it's not me! Mirage. Both shoulder struts out, shot in the knee. Ratchet...! It's completely torn, the patch won't hold. Nnngh. Okay." He turned to the spy. 

"Ratchet says I can probably save you from bleeding out, but I'll have to pull your torn fuel cable and then you'll offline immediately from the pain. I'll try to shut you off now safely." He leaned closer and pulled Mirage against himself. "Lean your head on my shoulder. I have to reach your neck." 

"Alright," Mirage said, laying his head on the golden shoulder and softly cycling air as he waited for the impending stasis. "I know you'll take care of me Sunstreaker." A warm feeling built in his spark at the security of being near the warrior, as he lay limp and injured. He'd never felt safer. 

"Stupid Towerling..." The golden fingers were questing on the slender neck; Mirage could faintly hear Ratchet's voice through Sunstreaker's comm lines. "Rest well."

He pressed down and Mirage's consciousness faded into blessed, painless darkness. 

\---------------------

When Mirage next woke up, it was in the Ark's medbay, Ratchet standing over him. "How're you feeling Mirage?" 

"Sore," the spy responded. A dull ache spreading from his knee, shoulder and wrist. "Although better than when I was last conscious."

The corner of Ratchet's lips quirked in amusement. "That's to be expected. The repairs on joints and struts always take the longest to recover. Your side's already fully repaired and you should be able to use your wrist by the end of the day. Your shoulder and knee however will take at least another two days to fully heal. Once you take a cube of energon, you're free to leave, with assistance, to finish your recuperation in your quarters." Ratchet grinned as he said, "I'm sure your berthside buddy would be happy to help you with either of those two tasks."

Mirage groaned in mortification, offlining his optics and letting his head fall back onto the berth with a thump. "Ratchet, you're horrible."

"Just call it as I see it," the medic said with a good natured cackle as he went to tend one of his other patients. 

"Now, let's see you, Cliffjumper... Your vocalizer is intact, I was sure of that in several astroseconds. However, your pelvic unit's better part is shattered... it's a miracle you weren't torn into two."

"Or shot in the face by a certain someone!" The red minibot barked. 

"Primus," Mirage moaned. "What's he going on about now?" The spy started to wonder if Cliffjumper ever had something to talk about that wasn't a glitch fit. 

"Your precious Sunstreaker of course!" the small warrior spat. "He aimed at me, point blank! From behind cover! That fragger always had a Con spark... You make such a fine pair!"

"One more word, Cliffjumper, and you won't be able to run your vocalizer for a week!" Ratchet snapped. 

"I doubt he ever meant to shoot you Cliffjumper. You probably startled him, or something." Mirage remembered Sunstreaker's recent words concerning Cliffjumper. But even if he meant them, and even if friendly fire was a good defense, Sunstreaker wasn't like that. He preferred getting up close and personal with those that offended him, not shooting them in the back. 

Cliffjumper opened his mouth to protest but Ratchet's glare made him shirk. He turned his head away and growled. 

The medic fetched a cube and helped the spy to sit. "Slowly. And then, call your friends to fetch you. I have others to look at." 

"Alright." Mirage carefully sipped from the cube until it was empty. Once finished he commed Bluestreak, because it was probably best not to contact Sunstreaker and potentially start a war between the artist and Cliffjumper in the medbay; which would inevitably end with Ratchet as the reigning victor. Not even the Prime himself could win a battle taking place in the medbay when Ratchet was on duty. 

The gray gunner arrived quickly, but that was only to be expected. He was happy seeing Mirage in a functional condition and he helped him back to his room. He gently eased the blue frame back on the berth, then hopped on it with a big grin. 

"So I heard Sunny saved you, I think it's pretty cool and I'd like to hear more if you're not too tired or something." 

Mirage chuckled, lounging back against the wall his berth was against. "I suppose," he said in amusement with mock resignation. "Skywarp had been chasing me down, and had unfortunately disabled me to the point I was lying back on the ground with his foot on my wrist. Then, just as I thought I would become one with the Matrix, Sunstreaker was there like some otherworldly guardian. He easily tackled Skywarp off me and... well let's just say Skywarp was probably regretting attacking me at that moment. Probably still is." He refrained from describing how Sunstreaker had actually torn off the seeker's hand, the event a little too brutal for either of them and a potential dampener to Bluestreak's enthusiasm.

"Then he just picked me up and ran like it was an effortless, every day thing and got us to relative safety behind one of the plant's damaged building's walls. He fixed me best he could, although I was still in danger of bleeding out so he had to shut me off." A fond smile curved Mirage's lips. "I know it's insane, but he makes me feel safe, even in the middle of battle and nearly dying." 

"He's so awesome," Bluestreak chirped with delight; then he grinned brightly. "If I weren't with Sides, I think I'd be jealous." He patted Mirage's intact leg and his expression saddened a bit. "All this crazy talk is really getting on my nerves, I bet you don't like it either and I've tried to tell them the truth but they didn't listen, they said I was just guarding you because Sunny keeps us in his grasp." He huffed. "Glitch-heads." 

"They make him sound like some cyberwolf out hunting for hapless little turbohound pups," Mirage said with a scowl. "And they don't speak of me much better half the time either, like I'm some loose paneled streetwalker." Mirage wilted as the fire of anger died into a pensive mood. "I know how it appears to them and I can't blame them for the judgment, but I wish they could stop acting like we're committing some horrible crime." 

"We could tell them!" Bluestreak flailed. "Or just tell Prowl or Optimus, they'll shut them up! They have no rights to accuse us and besides, gossip is bad for the moral!" Not that he didn't enjoy playing the rumor mill, but... that was different...! 

"I don't want this reflecting ill onto Hound. What if they think poorly of him for pretending to be with me for my sake? They know he loves me, I don't want them thinking him pitiful for holding onto an unrequited love for so long. It would be humiliating for him if they found out we were only pretending to be together, I can't do that to him." 

The gunner's doorwings wilted. "But then, what to dooo?" he wailed. "I'm tired of hearing it and Sides will get mad and he's scary when mad, and Sunny will frag Cliffjumper and nobody will be happy." His shoulder slumped. "And I can feel my processors powering down. I act like a sparkling." 

"I always found that rather endearing about you, besides you're mature when the situation warrants it," Mirage soothed. "Hopefully a solution will come soon. Or everyone will tire of the subject and find something else to gossip about." 

\----------------------------------

It was early morning and the Ark was waking; Hound walked towards the rec room to fetch a cube so he'll have enough energy to go through the day. He could almost feel the sweet, prickling taste on his glossa and hear the light chatter from the room. He liked these early hours; when Wheeljack was there, the energon was warm, more vitalizing and there was a good chance he'd be there. The scout smiled hopefully. 

Just inside the room chatter could be heard. And as the scout would discover in a moment, not all too pleasant chatter either.

"So sad for Hound isn't it? Poor 'bot doesn't even know that when Mirage isn't with him, he's 'facing Sunshine. 'Though retribution came pretty quickly for him didn't it? Maybe getting fragged out on the battlefield will give him a taste of the pain he's probably inflicting on Hound," Huffer's voice said from inside the room.

"Extreme much Huffer? Mirage almost died, would've if Sunstreaker hadn't rescued him," Windcharger said.

"Well of course he's gonna save the pretty little aft he's grinding behind Hound's back. Mirage must be good if Sunstreaker will go to those extremes to keep him."

"Okay, Huffer? You know what? Just stop. You're making my fuel pumps lurch. We get it; Mirage is a dirty cheater and Sunstreaker's a remorseless glitch. We've heard all it before." Brawn spoke up.

"You'd think Mirage would have the decency to break it off with Hound before he started plugging up with Sunstreaker in the halls," Cliffjumper said, irritation coloring his voice.

"...You've seen them 'facing in the halls?" Gears asked skeptically.

"No, of course not. But I wouldn't be surprised if they do. Both are shameless enough for it." 

Hound stopped and stared. Okay. What was that? Somebody calling him a pitiful glitch and Mirage some escortbot...? So... THIS was what the glances meant. Pity and hatred. Like anything they said was true. He could feel several of his processors screeching to a halt. It was way to early to deal with such slag. At least without being properly energized. 

He straightened, forced a carefree smile on his faceplates and walked in. "Good morning everybody. How are things so early today?" He targeted the dispenser. Energon first. Tearing and hacking and summoning a Megatron holo later. 

"We're good," Cliffjumper said with a friendly smile, like he hadn't just been talking slag behind anyone's backs. "How're you doing today Hound?"

"How's Mirage feeling?" Bumblebee asked, looking slightly less comfortable, and sitting at an entirely different table from his friends than usual. He was instead playing cards with Wheeljack, who was giving glances to the clustered minibots as his headfins flickered an irritated reddish orange. 

"Mirage is alright, no worries," Hound smiled at the yellow minibot. He remembered him from his sparkling days and couldn't bring himself to see him as a grown mech, no matter that Bee was already a valuable member of Jazz's Spec Ops. "A few days and he'll be good as new. And I so need a cube now... I think my processors refuse to acknowledge the time."

He picked up a small, empty cube and filled it. The energon was warm, and when he took the first sip, he recognized some characteristic additions. "Mmm... Wheeljack, when you're not blowing up anything, you're a treasure, have I ever told you that...?" 

"Yeah, but I always appreciate bein' appreciated," the engineer said cheerily, headfins flickering a happier sky blue. "Good to hear about Mirage too."

"Same here," Bumblebee said, raising his own cube in acknowledgment. "Me and Jazz were both worried about him. You think he'd like some visitors?" 

"You bet...!" Hound nodded with much belief, settling down. "When he was resting his knee, all he could do was reading and reading... He lamented to me that it was getting boring even for him. Though, he found some lovely poetry; seems the humans came up with something nice, I like to listen when he reads them up. I'd say, drop in sometime, he'll surely appreciate it." 

"S'not all he appreciates," Cliffjumper snickered.

"It's nice that Mirage can find things on this planet that he likes. I was worried he wouldn't learn to enjoy our time here," Bumblebee said, ignoring the other minibot. "And you know, it's amazing how much he can absorb about literature and art and stuff like that. He's probably one of the smartest 'bots here when it comes to cultural stuff." 

"Aside maybe Jazz," Wheeljack added and Hound nodded. 

"Or, certain red minibots I know," he said loudly for everybody to hear, as he leaned back. The warm energon buzzed in him, waking him properly. Now he was ready to face with any and all of them. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cliffjumper asked, optics narrowed in confusion and a touch of suspicion. He pushed his chair out slightly away from the table, turning towards Hound to face him better. 

The scout gestured lazily. "Ooh, I meant customs... like, mating customs and manners and courting and respect and most of all, gossip." His expression hardened as he leaned forward. "What the frag you think you're doing, Red...?" 

"I don't know what the slag you're talking about Hound," Cliffjumper said with a sniff, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "Just a little good natured teasing. Everyone here's a big bot, they can handle it." 

"They're handling it better that you think!" Hound snarled. "After all, you're still alive! I'm just not getting it!" He slammed his fist against the table; his empty cube bounced away. "You're talking slag about me and my best friend. Poor fool Hound, he's as ignorant as a new sparkling, huh? How the frag do you know that Mirage, Sunstreaker and I are not a happy threesome?!" 

The clustered minibots gawked, especially Cliffjumper. Bumblebee had to cover his mouth in a mixture of shock, and some amusement. Wheeljack's optics briefly widened before he got over the idea.

"W-we didn't mean, I mean I didn't, are you?" Cliffjumper asked, thrown. "Mirage is one thing, but Sunstreaker's a slaghead to the nth degree." 

"He. Is. My. Best. Friend's. Lover," Hound hissed. He was a scary sight when angry, most probably because nobody had ever seen him like that. "Mirage and I parted long ago. He is not two-timing. He is not a one-night mech. He loves Susnstreaker. And although I hate to say this, Sunstreaker have never been inconsiderate of me or hurt me any way. And I know about this. Would you all be so fragging kind and cut the slag-spewing? Maybe you should all open your optics and admit that sometimes, there is more in things that you imagine!"

He stomped to the dispenser and downed another cube. Then, he turned back to the others. "Now, if I hear one more comment about my BEST FRIEND not being anything else but a classy mech who is pretty fragging awesome in sneaking behind the enemy, I'll run you over," He pointed at Cliffjumper. "Not to mention I'll tell Prowl. You know how kindly he takes to anything which might go against a rule. And now, please excuse me. Ignorant little me has patrol duty." 

The table of minibots had shrunk into their seats, faceplates heated in embarrassment as they were reprimanded by the normally amiable mech. Cliffjumper had actually flinched at Hound's threat. If the little red minibot had been a dog, his tail would've been between his legs.

Once Hound was gone, everyone slowly started to relax. Wheeljack snaked his hands together, wringing a surprised yelp from Cliffjumper, and the engineer spoke probably more happily than should be allowed. "Well, seems that rumor mill died the painful, horrible death it deserved."

Bumblebee couldn't help but laugh, especially at the wide optics of his fellow minibots.


	12. Evening Star

"So, exactly WHY do you want me to convince Prowl to modify his carefully designed patrol schedule...?" Jazz's blue visor was flickering with curiosity. 

Mirage shifted on his feet, his faceplates heating a little in embarrassment. "It's... well, I had this idea... I thought it would be good for Hound and Trailbreaker to spend more time together... alone, for certain reasons."

This seemed so much easier in his CPU, until he actually tried to implement his plan. Then reality reared it's ugly head. He'd long ago learned lying to Jazz never ended in success, the mech could see through you almost as well as a telepath. Mirage sometimes idly wondered if there was a 'slag spewing detection' setting on that visor the saboteur always wore. 

"I kinda thought you had enough of matchmakin' and such... Why don't you guys leave things to develop on their natural course. What if they don't want to be hooked up, huh?" 

"Because I don't think their relationship will further itself if left alone. Trailbreaker is adamant about not telling Hound of his affections for him, and Hound is set on pining after me. Maybe some alone time between them, away from the Ark, and certainly away from me, would help Hound get over me, and bolster some confidence in Trailbreaker. It's frustrating to see them unhappy, and they don't seem eager to make the situation better for themselves. I just want to help them." Mirage straightened himself, taking a deep intake cycle.

"Please can you do this for me Jazz? The worst that could happen is nothing. They're two friends on patrol in a more romantic environment. It's not like I'm trying to pair up the Ark's most volatile rivals." 

"I didn't say I won't do it. And you're right, sometimes we just have to meddle...Trailbreaker has confidence issues, he'd indeed never tell anything this big to Hound. Hmm, it might take some time to put it into effect, but it's not impossible to do. I'll talk to Prowl and convince him. Maybe we could send them out on a mission, too, after all, we need more data about this planet. However..." he smirked. "Now you owe me one." 

Mirage relaxed a little, smiling. "Thank you Jazz." Although that smile on the saboteur's lips had him a little concerned. "You're not going to ask me to smuggle in prank item contraband again, are you?" 

"I haven't decided yet," Jazz said smugly. "You'll see in time. Your main concern should be out upcoming lovebirds. Go, and I'll arrange this with Prowl." 

_/For Hound, for Hound, for Hound/_ Mirage mentally chanted. It was always a little nerve wracking to be indebted to Jazz, the saboteur could be notoriously creative in what he'd have you do for him. "Alright. Thank you again, Jazz," Mirage said with a polite smile. He left Jazz's office, heading for the rec room as his hope for Hound slowly started to grow. 

 

The sun was setting down over the mountains, the last rays painting the air crimson and orange and blinding gold. It was a beautiful sight, really; at least, Trailbreaker found it enthralling. He turned to look down ant his friend and the foot of the rock formation. "Hound, come up, you'll like this." 

The green scout easily climbed up the rock formation to join his friend. He smiled at the picturesque view, quickly logging it away in his memories to replay with his holograms later. "Amazing, seems like we really got lucky with this patrol," Hound said cheerfully. "Isn't it the most beautiful sight ever 'Breaker?" 

"Yes, it is," the strategist nodded, but he wasn't watching the sunset - he was gazing at his friend's smiling face. His spark felt both light and heavy; he loved when Hound smiled, when he was happy, but it made his insides ache that he still couldn't muster the courage to tell the scout, just how much those smiles meant to him. In the past one month, they were patrolling together by some miracle, and they had seen the most beautiful places around the ark, the desert, the forests, the beach, sunsets, sundowns, a storm... And still, Trailbreaker couldn't tell what was on his spark. 

"We must have gotten on fortune's side real good to be pulling all these nice patrol routes." Hound laughed at a thought. "If it were anyone but Prowl assigning the duty rosters, I'd be wondering if something was up." He turned to his friend, still smiling. "I'm glad I can share all these amazing sights with you 'Breaker. You're one of the few mechs on the Ark who finds Earth as fascinating as I do." He appreciated getting to spend all this time with his long time friend, it seemed like all this time spent with him seeing all these great sights had brought them even closer together. 

The taller mech's vents hummed up, and his visor flickered. He cautiously placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and moved closer. "I'm glad that I can be here, too," he said quietly. He wanted to pull the green frame even closer, to embrace him and never let go, but... it wasn't possible. At least, not before he confessed. "Hound, I... I'd like to..." 

Hound grinned wider at his friend and patted him on the back. "C'mon 'Breaker, no need to be shy with me. You know I'm all audio for you." This had happened a couple times before with his friend. Trailbreaker would get nervous, start to say something, then just wave it off saying 'nevermind.' Hound wondered what could be on the defense strategist's CPU. It must have been personal if he could get so uncertain like this. 

"I'd like to... ask if you-" He couldn't say it. "If you're happy. I mean, I guess you are, after all, you love this planet much and we've seen so many beautiful places, but... I mean if you're... U-uhh, so now that Mirage and Sunstreaker..." Primus, was he really just making things worse...? 

Hound frowned, looking down at the mention of the pair. "I think what hurts the most, wasn't Mirage rejecting me, it's him being with Sunstreaker. I think Sunstreaker knows just as well as I do how much sway he has on Mirage's spark, and he could really hurt him. I don't even care as much if Mirage never loves me, I just don't want to see him broken because of that- because of Sunstreaker." He was starting to become at peace without Mirage's love. It was hard, but he was starting to. Trailbreaker's presence and support certainly helped. 

"Then, maybe..." The strategist lightly caressed the green shoulder, "maybe you'll be able to find somebody for yourself and be happy, right? 'Cause I want the best for you, Hound, you know that." 

Hound chuckled. "Not a lot of choices for me, are there? Everyone is either with someone already or not much my type. I think half of them are still afraid of me after I threatened to slag Cliffjumper." Hound smiled back up at his friend, giving the larger mech an affectionate one armed, hug. "Besides, who needs love when they've got such a great friend like you to keep 'em company?" 

Trailbreaker's spark gave a twist. Suddenly, his entire circuitry was burning, screaming. _Just friends, never more, no, I can't take that, Hound, I love you, please love me back-_

"Hound, my dear friend. I-"

Was that a jet engine...? 

A seeker originated missile exploded next to them, throwing both head over heels off the steep incline of rock. Hound had his laser rifle out of subspace before he'd even finished his tumble down, crouching beside Trailbreaker. "'Breaker, you okay buddy?" He asked, returning fire on Starscream and Thundercracker, the two seekers must have been scouting the area and seen them. Now the pair was circling the two Autobots like Earth native vultures, returning their own laser fire. 

The strategist's visor was blazing. He held up his hand, mostly for the effect, and activated his force field. The shots bounced off that as he rose with a snarl, fetching his rifle from subspace. 

"Finally, FINALLY I gather all my courage and you two fragging scraplets RUIN MY BIG MOMENT!" The forcefield disappeared and Trailbreaker began to shower the seekers with laser fire. "I'll make you both meet your manufacturer!" 

Hound was going to have to remember to _never_ anger Trailbreaker. And question him on what he was ranting about when he calmed down a little. Until then he joined the assault, returning fire on the seekers and sending his shoulder mounted missile on Starscream. He let out whoop and a cackle as it hit the seeker dead on the nosecone. He set up a hologram of duplicates of himself and Trailbreaker, also firing at the two, confusing the seeker pair even more and distracting them into avoiding all the laser fire as well as trying to shoot all of the Autobots below them. 

Finally, Trailbreaker managed to hit Thundercracker's wing. The Seeker yelped and lost quite some altitude; as soon as ha managed to stabilize himself, he turned and fled. Starscream, who was never famous of his heroism, followed with a few curses. 

The strategist lowered his weapon and warily glanced around - you could never be sure how many Decepticons lurked in the area. 

Hound scanned the area for Decepticon energy signatures, he was relieved to detect nothing. "I think we're clear. Are you okay Trailbreaker?" He asked again, concerned. That explosion had thrown them both and he didn't know the extent of his friend's injuries. 

"Yeah, fine. Couple o' dents and a small burn, nothing serious. What about you?" He looked a lot calmer now; worried instead of angry. 

"A little sore and battered, and my side's a little singed, but I don't think I've got anything worse than that. Ratchet could probably tell better though..." His memory bank went back to Trailbreaker's earlier words, to the seekers and to him. "What... what were you going to say to me 'Breaker? Before the seekers attacked us." He wasn't going to let this go. What Trailbreaker had been about to say had been important and he wanted to hear it. 

The defense strategist flinched, but then straightened his back and looked his friend in the optics. "Hound, I... I love you. I know it's too sudden, and I certainly don't expect anything from you until you ran it through your processors several times, but... I had to tell it. All this time, I don't even know how long… you were more to me than a friend. But please, don't feel guilty." 

"All this time...? While I was chasing Mirage, you were in love with me?" It was sadly funny. He'd been yearning for Mirage's love for so long, and right here beside him, his closest friend had loved him. It still seemed rather soon, he was still getting over Mirage. But this entire month their relationship had been growing, he'd felt closer to Trailbreaker than any other mech in the Ark. Maybe...

He stepped over to Trailbreaker, hugging him. "I don't know if I can return that kinda love for you yet 'Breaker, or even real soon. But I do love you as my best friend and I-I think they can be something more if you'll stick with my stupid aft."

Trailbreaker curled his dark arms loosely around the scout and leaned his chin on top of the green head with a smile. "Thank you, Hound. Take your time, I don't mind waiting. He looked into the distance with a happy sigh. "Oh, hey, look! The third planet of this solar system... The humans call it the evening star." On the darkening sky, the first star - yes, technically a planet, but for once, the strategist let it slip - was sparkling brightly. 

"How about staying here for a while and watch the stars...?" 

"Sounds good to me," Hound said contentedly. He turned a little to look at the star- planet- celestial body Trailbreaker had pointed out. "The humans have a tradition about wishing on the first star they see. That or shooting stars, maybe both; I can't be sure" Hound chuckled. "They have so many interesting habits." 

"We'll learn them," Trailbreaker said as he pulled his friend down to sit on the rock. "Just like we're learning our own ways, our own sparks." 

Hound settled beside Trailbreaker, their sides touching, arm around his friend's waist while Trailbreaker had an arm curled around his shoulder. "Yeah, we've got a lot of time on our hands to learn, huh?" 

"All the time of the world."

~end~


	13. Hunting Season

Mirage slowly, carefully walked through the forest, silent, listening for any hint of trouble. He knew he was being pursued, but not the location of his pursuer. He'd triggered his invisibility at the beginning of this 'hunt', but wondered at it's usefulness when the soft damp soil from last night's rain kept giving his hunter a clear path to him. Each step he took required a pause to smooth out the footprints in the soil the best he could to avoid detection. 

He'd come close a couple times, hearing that soft dangerous voice trying to coax him out of hiding, promising things that sent shivers down his back strut.

He tensed as he heard the shifting of foliage. A figure stepped into his sight, careful not to make much sound or disturb the scenery too much. Mirage stilled, not daring to move and reveal his location. Of course, all the mech had to do was look down...

"I know you're here somewhere..." the voice, now smooth and warm like oil cake cooed. "I'll find you and then, you'll be in a very big trouble, little spy. I'll make you pay for everything." He was crouching low, audios tuned to the noises around. "This was the worst idea, ever. Come out, little spy..." He was drawing closer though he didn't really look downwards; apparently, he was not a tracker. 

Mirage was as unmoving as the tree the stood besides, watching the other mech. He had long learned how to keep every servo and gear in place and never so much as twitch; he could do this for hours and go unnoticed so long as he was never bumped into. Beneath it's casing, his spark pulsed in anticipation as his pursuer drew closer.

If he tried to move, there was a chance he could be heard, it was so quiet the slightest shift of a frame might alert the other mech. If he just made a run for it, there was a good chance he'd be caught. And he couldn't transform and use his faster alt-mode because the trees were too thick around here, he'd probably crash into one of them before he got twenty feet.

Primus was smiling at him today though, which was quite a thing, being so far from Cybertron. The pursuer simply didn't notice the telltale tracks; at least not now. He came quite close to Mirage but simply walked past him, still listening to the sounds instead of the ground. He was apparently not used to this alien planet yet. Probably, he didn't venture out too often. 

Mirage shifted uncomfortably on his feet, watching his pursuer pass him. He was standing right behind the other mech and the warrior had no idea he was here. He could reach out and touch the other mech if he wished. If he got much farther from the spy's hiding place, Mirage could probably sneak away again.

With every moment, his chances grew better. The other was simply walking away, still murmuring to himself. "Once I catch you, you'll be so very sorry... I'll record your screams so your friends could hear it too."

Mirage cautiously started to back away from the slowly departing mech. He almost thought himself in the clear when he stepped on something, probably a fallen piece of tree, that made an audible snap. He froze, along with his spark as all chances of escape died with that sound.

The pursuer spun around immediately, optics blazing as he scanned the area. The twin beacons widened suddenly and he straightened, slapping his helm. "Oookay... this doesn't make much sense on this terrain. Besides, you're fragging invisible, how am I supposed to track you? Last time I let myself be dragged into this stupid game!"

Mirage sighed in annoyance, shutting off his electro disruptor. "Well, if you had bothered to look down," Mirage said, pointing at the footprints left in the damp soil. "So, that 'worst idea ever', wasn't part of the role play?" Mirage asked with a small chuckle.

"I am not a tracker. Back home you DON'T look at the ground... because, you know, it's made of metal. Plus, I'm covered with mud." The light-colored frame drew closer. "I meant the threats... all of them. Hope you can run fast."

Mirage started to back away tentatively. Was Sunstreaker serious? Sometimes he could never be sure with the golden warrior. Then again, running could just incite a whole new set of trouble for him with his lover. Run or stay, either way was probably going to end the same.

The warrior's scowl turned into a smug grin. "Run, little spy... I won't get any more dirty... but you will. You'll be tackled back into the mud, interface panel ripped open... And you will scream. Nobody messes with Solarstrike!" That was Sunstreaker's "Decepticon name"; they have come up with one for each of them, when they were playing like this. Of course, he liked 'Master Sunstreaker' the best, but with the false name, he acquired a curious edge to his personality... He was downright scary then, but dangerously sensual, too. 

"Oh dear," Mirage said, optics wide as he turned fled. He dashed heedlessly through the brush of the woods. Well, almost heedlessly. He tried to be careful not to damage most of the plantlife too badly, and kept an optic out for any local fauna. Organic bits on his foot were not arousing in any way.

Sunstreaker had no such qualms. Plantlife for him was not something to be considered, and he trusted the other more mobile life forms to fragging get out of his way. Now THIS, he liked. Chasing, a hunt; raw power on display, where only strength and speed mattered, no fancy abilities. The days of his classy artist life never seemed farther away than at these moments and although he cherished those fond memories, he embraced the battle with passion. He launched after the spy, optics trained on the blue back, audios tuned on the humming of the other's vents. He wanted to catch Mirage, dirty his pristine frame and take him where he had fallen. 

The power had an intoxicating feel, and Sunstreaker loved its taste. 

Mirage could hear the pounding of feet behind him as the larger mech chased after him, vents growling like pithounds. He ducked past a tree branch, dashing to the right. He recalled in his own hunts how petro-rabbits would dash left and right to slow down and confuse the turbofoxes pursuing them. They weren't always successful though. Although success for him wasn't escaping anyway.

And his delicate joints, making him so flexible and elegant were not helping in this case. Mirage was a fast mech but not the toughest one; his delicate limbs started to ache from heavy strain, slowing him down. Sunstreaker, on the other hand, was built for endurance; whoever upgraded his artist frame, made a very good job. He was closing in fast. 

Mirage darted to the side again, nearly slipping in a particularly muddy spot of earth. His stumble before he caught himself and kept running cost him and he could hear Sunstreaker right behind him. He probably only had a few paces ahead of the warrior and if he dared to look back he would see that Sunstreaker was close enough to grab him.

"You can run but there's no escape!" Sunstreaker yelled with dark delight. "You can't hide from the starfire warrior!" With a bold move, he leapt, launching himself through the air to down Mirage. It'd probably cost both of them several dents and a ruined finish... But there were moments when the golden Twin didn't give a damn about that. 

Mirage fell with a yelp and a groan as Sunstreaker landed on top of him. After this, he was going to have to speak with his lover about why tackling someone smaller than oneself was usually a bad move. His sore frame protesting to the weight falling atop it.

He scrambled under the frame, trying to dislodge the heavier weight on him. "Oh no, oh no," he panted, playing the panicked, helpless Autobot as a hand fell atop his helm and pressed down until he was nearly kissing the dirt.

"You shouldn't have played with me," 'Solarstrike' hissed. He promptly straddled the spy, effectively immobilizing him. "Now, you have to pay. And I don't play cheap. I'll rip your chest plating open and fondle your spark until you offline from pleasure!" He dug his hand into the mud, then began to stroke the other's frame with long, firm moves. "Hah. Towerling, huh? Aristocrat... So clean and elegant. Now you look like the lowest of low, a beggar high on stimsticks... So filthy. How does it feel, Towerling...?"

"Please, please have mercy," Mirage begged. He bucked against the frame on his, not even phasing the warrior sitting on him. He shivered under the touches and words, hands curling into the mud.

"Mercy? What's that?" The golden mech asked innocently, and he grabbed the spy's form tight, moving away a bit so he could turn Mirage. Once he was on his back, Sunstreaker pinned both of the slender wrists down, leaning closer. "Oh, wait, I think I got it. Mercy is interfacing first, THEN killing you." He pressed his mouth against those white lips fiercely. 

Mirage squirmed helplessly under the frame. His gasp of shock was swallowed by the kiss. He writhed and arched in the hold, heels digging into the ground, wrists twisting in the warrior's hold.

"You might try begging," the golden twin advised, breaking the kiss. He took both of the wrists and moved them above Mirage's head to hold them with one hand. Now he could caress the frame, paying proper attention to the helplessly exposed joints. "Beg for it, Autobot."

"Please, let me preserve my dignity," Mirage said desperately, head tilting back and tilting to the side, baring his neck for the stronger mech. His arms quivered, heat building in his frame as Sunstreaker fondled his joints. "I implore you, do not take both it and my life. Let my friends find my sparkless frame unsullied. It will break their sparks to know my last day of life was one of fear and humiliation."

"Just what are you talking about...?" Sunstreaker took the opportunity to bite into the neckstruts and power cables pulsing fast with energon. "You'll die happily! After a nice overload! I assure you, I can give you the ride of your life," His thumb rubbed forcefully against a shoulder joint, remembering all too well how the young aristocrat once reacted to that stimulation. "Maybe I can be nice, too... and let you return to your friends... who never came to your rescue... after I had my way with you. They say... Autobots scream wonderfully, and their impulses are sweet." His grin was downright frightening.

Mirage whimpered, shivers running down his backstrut. "I-I, o-oh Primus," Mirage moaned, small gasps escaping his vents as his frame's heat slowly rose. "Please, I-I can n-never f-face them if you c-continue." Mirage could barely keep his thoughts together, squirming harder under the frame.

Sunstreaker was still grinning. "Aren't Autobots forgiving...?" He plunged his glossa into Mirage's mouth. "Aren't they understanding?" Another deep, charged kiss. "Wouldn't they accept you if you whored yourself out for a Decepticon so you could live and return to them?" And another. "Guess what, pretty chassis: I don't give slag about your friends and how you get along." 

The questing hand immediately attacked the panel, mercilessly rubbing and stroking it. He also gave the spy's neck a forceful bite.

Mirage arched under Sunstreaker, moaning wantonly. His panel strained to snap open, but Mirage refrained. Sunstreaker was going to have to fight for his prize. "I-It is not... wh-whoring myself o-out, if... if I am f-forced," Mirage panted, fingers curling and clawing at the air as he squirmed in the dominating hold.

"One reason more to press your luck. If you can make me overload, my hold will weaken; you might be able to wrestle yourself free, even kill me. It's worth one try." The pressure intensified.

Mirage whined as Sunstreaker squeezed his joints, trying to curl up, getting no further than tucking his chin down towards his chest and shoulders lifting a little from the ground. "S-someh-ow, I-I d-dobt you... w-would all-allow that," Mirage groaned.

"You'd never know if you don't try, Autobot..." Sunstreaker purred into his audios. He popped his own panel open and traced the port, moaning sensuously. "Besides, my patience is growing thin... And you don't want to be near me when I'm impatient."

Mirage whimpered, optics locked on the sight, following Sunstreaker's finger along the edge of the port. His own panel involuntarily snapped open, unable to resist the combination of that voice, the sight, and those touches on his joints. His optics shuttered, and he moaned in embarrassment as his own plug slipped out. He really did have no self control.

"Ooh, what do we have here." Sunstreaker took the plug and pulled it out." It came out so easily... and your port seems to be well-worn, too. I bet you're the slut of the Autobots. That's why you're so worried, huh? That the others won't take you anymore." He promptly sucked the cable's end into his mouth and began to tease the sensitive tip with his glossa. "Mmm... mmm...!" He was moaning shamelessly, as if he'd been enjoying some energon delicacy. His optics narrowed, but he kept on staring at Mirage intensely.

The spy writhed helplessly under the gaze, mewling in pleasure. "S-S-Sssuuuh..." He barely caught himself from crying out his lover's name and ruining the game. He degenerated into static and incoherent moans, bucking again under the warrior as the pleasure of his plug being sucked on shot straight to his spark. If Sunstreaker kept this up, he could probably make Mirage overload before ever having to connect them.

The golden twin knew that as well; he stopped the torture and quickly plugged himself into the spy, then connected Mirage's plug as well. He didn't waste any time, just lashed out with a few long impulses. Of course, he wanted an overload out of it, too. 

Mirage gasped as the data stream hit him, squirming in the hold. He arched again under Sunstreaker, mouth open, vents heaving at each pulse of pleasure coursing between them. His hands twisted again under Sunstreaker's, straining for another touch.

The warrior had a secure hold on him though. He leaned closer, putting most of his weight on his lover's frame and locked their lips in a passionate kiss. Being a robot meant that you didn't have to breathe.

Mirage returned the kiss, moaning as his glossa twined with Sunstreaker's. The impulses between them grew stronger, his spark surging with energy. His frame was growing unbearably hot, shivers running through his body.

The sensation escalated to the breaking point; the golden frame above him arched and Sunstreaker screamed with his release, fingers twitching around the wrists in his hold.

Mirage took his chance, twisting his wrists until he was holding onto Sunstreaker's, and pushing against the overloading mech until the golden warrior was on his back with Mirage straddling him. The spy gripped tighter around Sunstreaker's wrists as his own overload hit, arching and crying out. As the energy surge tapered off, Mirage was left panting and staring into the over bright optics of the just overloaded Sunstreaker.

"You did say to try," Mirage said in amusement.

"I could also kill you with my bare hands..." Sunstreaker smiled back. Though at least, he didn't look so scary anymore. He stretched a bit, then winced as he felt the soil gather in his joints. "Primus, this planet is disgusting."

Mirage chuckled, unfazed by the threat. "You like being called 'Master Sunstreaker' too much to kill me." He let the warrior's wrists go, pulling him into a sit. He remained perched in his lover's lap, giving him a soft kiss. "Look on the bright side, beautiful, the dirtier we get, the more satisfying a warm shower feels."

"Don't disturb my reasoning with actual facts." Sunstreaker caught Mirage's chin with two fingers. "You're a glitch-head, Mirage, for hanging out with me. Aren't you scared when I pull this 'Solarstrike' persona?"

"Sometimes I think I should be, but I'm not. I know you only give as good as you get, Sunstreaker. So, if I treat you well, I know you'll treat me well in return."

"Or not." The blue optics flashed. "Maybe I'm really a Decepticon, waiting for the right moment to strike." He stood up and gazed up at the sky.

"Yes, because Decepticon spies always reveal their intentions randomly to their Autobot lovers." Mirage deadpanned. He tentatively laid a hand on Sunstreaker's arm. "I wish you would stop trying to chase me away. Can't you trust me to know I want this?"

"I don't trust anybody, aside my brother." The reply was a bit cold, and as Sunstreaker turned to start walking out of the forest, Mirage's keen audios caught a murmured "Not even myself." Loudly, the warrior added: "Oh, I know that you want this. Many mechs want things which might be bad for their functionality."

Mirage's hand shot out, grabbing the warrior's wrist, pulling him back. "Sunstreaker, please don't go. I don't care about the changes that have happened to you, or if you think you'll hurt me. I don't think you will, not now."

"Maybe not now, but maybe tomorrow, or the next orn or the next vorn. You're not afraid of me, Mirage, but you should be. Like everybody else." Sunstreaker gently pulled his hand out of the grip. "And sorry, but I will go now. Back to the Ark, because I'm muddy, still a bit dazed from the overload and my joints are itching. You can come with me and share that nice long shower you mentioned, or stay here and wait for the rain." The grin was the same again; the bitterness disappeared behind the carefully maintained mask.

Mirage smiled softly, relieved at least that Sunstreaker wasn't trying to be moody. "No need to be sorry, as long as I'm allowed to join you." His hand brushed Sunstreaker's as he walked over beside him.


	14. No More Cry

The last battle had been bad; Ratchet had nearly lost three soldiers on his table and the medical team's work was still far from over, even after five hours of repairs. There had been near mental breakdowns by several Ark members and everyone was tense and agitated. The priorities were made and anyone who wasn't going to die without life support or monitoring were excused from the medbay.

Mirage himself was mostly unscathed; nothing but dents and his right shoulder strut was a little sore. His right optic had also been a little messed up, and he'd onlined with one Pit of a pain in his CPU, but that was to be expected with flash bombs. However it wasn't himself he was worried for.

Bluestreak had told him after he'd woken up, and Ratchet had sent them out of the medbay after running a full body scan on both soldiers, that he was worried for Sunstreaker. The artist had been hit in the faceplates by some shrapnel, and although the damage was all cosmetic, couldn't be repaired until after the after-battle-chaos had died down. Sunstreaker had locked himself in his quarters after being discharged from medical, and wouldn't open them for Bluestreak. Sideswipe was still out on a three-team mission so the gunner was hoping Mirage could try talking to the golden twin.

Mirage was more than willing to try to help his lover, but even as he stood outside Sunstreaker's door, he wondered how willing the warrior would be to talk to him. It didn't hurt to try at least. He pressed the room's intercom, saying, "Sunstreaker? It's Mirage. May I come in?" 

"NO! Stay out and take your pity with, you fragging Towerling!" The voice carried disturbing hysterical undertones. Mirage could very well imagine the golden twin, curled up in a corner, nursing his injuries and slowly getting so worked up, that Ratchet will have to do a lot more to his head than correct scratched face plating. 

"I'm not pitying you Sunstreaker, I'm merely concerned," Mirage said once more over the intercom. "I brought you some energon; Ratchet's requiring that everyone hurt in the battle have at least one. You... apparently left before he could give you the order." 

"Leave it at the door or something and go!" the golden twin growled. He was NOT about to let anybody see him like this...! His hand was trembling, and his fingers kept on returning to the damaged area, no matter how it ached or how he knew that every touch just made it worse. He couldn't keep still, he wanted to just relax, but recharge escaped him, and he couldn't bring himself to draw. He tried. He broke the pad after a breem of scratching it with the stylus. 

"I've seen you in far worse shape Sunstreaker, as you have seen me, and I assure you seeing gaping wounds in your chassis or blown off limbs are a far more horrifying sight than you with some damaged facial plating." 

Metal screeched on metal in the room, then quick, heavy steps sounded. The door slid open and Mirage was wrenched inside; a golden hand seized him by the throat. Apparently, it was a habit of some mechs... The spy was shoved against the wall, and Sunstreaker sneered at him. The shrapnel grazed his smooth face, carving one deep gash and some shallow lines into it; one even slashed up his smooth lips. His lovely frame was also marred, the golden paint rubbed off, chestplate dented, his right arm covered with burn marks.

"Are you happy now? He hissed, blue optics burning almost white from his emotions. "I have nothing but this face, this chassis! This is what they know, this is what they like!" 

"It can be fixed," Mirage said calmly, probably more collected than he should be with a hand around his neck and pressed against a wall by someone who had tried to strangle him before. "Ratchet will have your face looking like normal once he can put his CPU at ease with the other injured." 

His hand hesitantly came up, cupping a cheek. "It's not that bad, and you're still beautiful, even with them." 

That provoked the unexpected. Sunstreaker's optics widened and he backed away, pressing a hand against his injured face. He stared at Mirage, his vents picking up.

"You're crazy... " he whispered and he turned away. 

Mirage slowly approached his distressed lover, laying a gentle hand on his uninjured arm. "Yes I am, for you Sunstreaker. No matter your appearance, I'll always find you beautiful." 

The warrior's vents hitched and he couldn't suppress a click. "Stop it, Mirage..." Barely audibly, he added "Please." 

"It's what you always wanted, isn't it? Someone's unwavering devotion. To see you and admire your good qualities while loving you despite, maybe even because of your vices. I know you have that with Sideswipe already, but I'm willing to offer it to you as well Sunstreaker." Mirage's optics glowed with desperation. "If you'll have it." 

"I'm still not getting it," the golden twin said, and his tone was closer to a whimper than anything normal. "Why do you love me, why do you chase after me so persistently, when half the Ark would gladly spoil you rusty with attention? You know nothing of me, Mirage and when you realize the truth, you'll back away and flee and I'll try to kill you again." 

Mirage smiled gently. "You're a good sparked mech, whether you believe it or not. You have such a strong will, and you're brave, passionate, honest. I could never fully describe why I love you because personality traits are only just a fraction of the reason we ever love someone." 

Sunstreaker's optics darkened. "If only you'd know how many of the Autobots would gladly rip that 'good spark' out of my chest cavity...! Haven't I ever told you that I have a purple insignia beneath the red? You should hate me for what I was just like that glitch Cliffjumper!" 

"And haven't I told you that I don't care who you used to ally yourself with? You're with the Autobots now, and that's what matters. And please never group me with Cliffjumper again, I've received enough grief from that little red menace for simply being from the Towers." 

Sunstreaker looked away. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, but it sort of sounded like a scream - he hardly ever apologized for anything. Then, as if he just remembered it, he covered his injured face again. He walked to his berth but didn't sit down on it, he sunk to the floor instead, and curled up.

"Nobody had trusted me since I joined," he said, more to himself than to the other mech. "Nobody wanted to look behind my paintjob and it was fine. But you stubborn Towerling... you just had to pry." 

Mirage took several steps closer to his lover, kneeling down in front of Sunstreaker, a comfortable distance away from the warrior to not seem invasive. "Your secrets are still yours to keep Sunstreaker, I just want you to let me love you," Mirage said softly. 

"It's not a secret... Everybody knows it," the artist said and looked down at his lap. "Love me," he murmured. It sort of sounded like a command, but he had no energy to look like the demanding mech he usually was. 

Mirage slowly drew closer, crawling on his hands and knees to the other mech. He reached out, touching Sunstreaker's knee. "Always," Mirage said softly. "No matter what, I'll always love you." 

The golden fingers curling around his spoke louder than any word.

***

The first thing Mirage became aware was the hand holding his. Then came the pain and then, the quiet whisper. 

"Mirage...! Mirage, come on, wake up...!" 

His optics flickered on and he quickly recognized the urgent voice. "Sunstreaker...?" He moaned at the spike of pain when he tried to move. His own fingers tightened in the hand holding his. "What... happened?" His CPU felt sluggish, optics slow to process what they were seeing. 

"We were discovered and ambushed. Now we're bound and Soundwave's jamming made me unable to contact the Ark." The golden warrior snarled. "It's how we thought, Megatron is constructing another weapon... And he steals the energy from a human facility." 

Mirage shifted again, wincing at his shoulder's protest. Looking down he found chains wrapped around his chassis. Experimentally twisting his wrists led to another scrape of chains and the feel of arms tied to his. "How are you feeling Sunstreaker?" 

"No serious injuries... aside my hurt pride." The reply came. "The null-ray hit me on the back of my neck, it shut me off immediately. Fortunately, it didn't fry out anything." 

"I'm a little sore, but I don't think I have any serious injuries." Mirage started to look around, his vision fully functional again. "Are we in the human's power plant?" 

They'd been scouting the area for Decepticon activity. Normally Mirage would have been sent in alone, but his electro disruptor was still in for repairs, and Hound was upstate and wouldn't have gotten back in time to have taken the scouting mission instead. It was crucial to know what the Decepticons were doing and Mirage was sent out with Sunstreaker, who he had actually worked on recon missions with before. 

"On the edge of it," Sunstreaker murmured. "The weapon's not far away... I won't be surprised if they kept us alive because they need fresh parts for it." He just hoped somebody will notice that they haven't checked in and would at least ping them, and notice the jamming. If reinforcements won't come in time, the Cons will either kill them or take them back to the Nemesis... and THEN kill them. Neither was a particularly pleasant option. 

"Have you tried getting out of the chains, maybe we could-"

"Don't move Autobot," a voice growled as a laser rifle was shoved into Mirage's face.

"...We have guards," Mirage said faintly, optics wide as he kept them trained on the rifle's muzzle only a foot away from his faceplate. 

"Really? Why, thank you, Mirage if you haven't mentioned it, I think I'd have totally missed the fact. After all, they were so quiet, like glitchmice, I think they were recharging!" Sunstreaker said smoothly. 

The rifle was retracted, the Decepticon, Skywarp, Mirage identified now that he could focus on something besides his potential imminent demise, walking over towards Sunstreaker. "Why don't you keep your mouth shut, you little two faced slagger," the seeker sneered. Mirage took in their surroundings, seeing Thundercracker leaning against a wall not too far away. 

"I thought I'll keep entertaining you," Sunstreaker went on, with a smile on his lips - it was apparent in his voice, but Mirage could feel how his backstrut tensed. He was not as relaxed as his words indicated. "What would Megatron say if you nodded off and perchance, something happened to the prisoners? I doubt he'd be happy. Besides, you were never exceptionally attentive, Skywarp. I doubt you'd like to repeat your little mistake."

There was a feral growl from Skywarp. “Oh I can think of a few ways to keep myself amused, most of them involve slowly detaching the limbs of your frame.” There was the sound of Skywarp teleporting and he was once more in Mirage’s face. “Or maybe I can play around with your pretty little friend here? You seem kinda attached to him.”

Mirage drew away as best he could as the crouching jet leaned in closer to him. 

"Yeah, with titanium alloy cables." Sunstreaker sounded bored. "Seriously, Skywarp, I know you don't have high standards but stooping this low, to be interested in this... thing here... Primus." 

Mirage refrained from wincing. The words stung, even if he did catch on that Sunstreaker was merely saying it for his sake. If they appeared uninterested in each other, Skywarp was less likely to bother Mirage.

Skywarp's hand trailed down Mirage's cheek as he spoke, "Oh, so that day you tore my hand off, acting like some cyberwolf with an injured mate, _wasn't_ for his sake? You just like tearing off Decepticon hands, that it?"

"Continue, and you'll lose a few fingers too," Mirage said coolly, glaring at the black and purple seeker with blazing optics. Skywarp slowly pulled his hand away, grinning like a lunatic. 

"Unlike your rusty kind, we Autobots save our own," the golden warrior remarked. "You know that... you know that all too well. And besides, I don't have a particular fondness for you either, 'Warp." 

Skywarp teleported again, in front of Sunstreaker. "Still going on about that, Sunny? Can't really let things go, can ya? Besides, you knew the Decepticon creed when you joined: Everything for the Decepticon cause, and every 'con for themselves." 

Sunstreaker winked. "That's why you'll loose the war, 'Warp." 

"Not before you and the Towerling get to find out whether you're worthy of the Matrix or are destined for the Pit," Skywarp taunted. "That is, unless Megatron decides you'd make a great example of what's done to deserters first. And as a spy for the Autobots, I'm sure your friend there's got some juicy secrets Soundwave can glean before he's tossed to us soldiers for some real fun." 

"You've not changed a bit, 'Warp," Sunstreaker cooed." You're still so adorably disgusting as you were. Never change, dearest, otherwise I might have some regrets on the day I rip you to pieces." 

"You haven't really changed yourself Sunshine. You're just a Decepticon posing in Autobot colors to spite us." He teleported back over to Mirage, grabbing the spy's chin and forcing him to look into the bright red optics. "Sunny ever tell you about his time with us, Towerling? It's a fun story."

"Sunstreaker's past isn't really my concern, and I'm certainly not interested in hearing it from some barbaric 'con," Mirage said icily.

Skywarp's face darkened, hands latching tightly on Mirage's shoulders, making the metal creak as he squeezed. "Stuck up little aristocrat, your bunch always thought yourselves so much better than us common mechs, perched in your little Towers with no cares at all. It was nice seeing those places burn to the ground."

Mirage's optics blazed. "Well I won't disagree that I'm better than some savage cur like you."

Skywarp pulled a fist back, striking Mirage in the interface port, crumpling the guard plating inward and forcing a pained gasp from Mirage's vocalizers. He drew his knees protectively up, vents heaving with effort as he tried to think past the pain. Skywarp pulled away, smirking in satisfaction. 

Sunstreaker squirmed, though he couldn't get out of the bonds. "Leave him alone you slagger, or I'll rip out your spark and stuff it down your throat!"

"Ah, ah." Thundercracker finally pushed himself away from the wall and walked closer. "Warp, less enthusiasm. You know we're to keep them relatively intact. By the way, Sunny, I thought you'd come up with some new insult... Back then, you said this to me when I was pointing a gun at your brother. One would think such a good propaganda specialist would be more creative... Apparently, the Autobots somehow dampened you skills. Actually... y'know, I'm curious; if I scratched that insignia, would I find purple paint underneath it? You were always so proud of your work."

Sunstreaker growled. "I did not enjoy it." 

"Oooh, yes, you did!" The blue Seeker laughed. "You were boasting about it, and did your best..." He shot a compassionate look at the warrior. "You once embraced the Decepticon ideology. And then, you just left us." 

"Probably saw you for the cowardly sadists you are," Mirage hissed, still curled up to protect himself from further attack.

Skywarp feinted towards Mirage, as though to hit him again, cackling when the smaller mech flinched. Mirage clutched tighter to Sunstreaker's wrist, watching the pair of seekers wearily. 

"I remember when you and your brother came to our Headquarters," Thundercracker began, as if telling a good anecdote. "Young mechs both with shining optics, claiming Cybertron needs a change and that you were ready to join the cause. I remember how you looked at Megatron. And I remember how hard you practiced. Megatron liked his followers to be strong, and you learned how to fight. All your skills... We taught you everything you know about fighting. That's why you fight so dirty." He snickered. 

"Megatron also needed somebody to promote us, and you charmed away quite a few mechs for us, didn't you, Sunstreaker? Most probably thought they could get you if they join... Maybe they did." 

The golden warrior growled menacingly. 

Mirage ran a thumb soothingly along Sunstreaker's knuckles, as he leveled a glare at Thundercracker. "Any particular reason you're telling us this? Sunstreaker already knows about his own past and I'm not all too concerned about what he used to be like."

"But that's a lie, isn't it?" Skywarp taunted with a vicious smile. "He's 'facing you and we can both tell. Sunny was always protective of his toys. You're not at all curious what you're getting into the berth with?" 

"Actually, there's not much more to the story," Thundercracker shrugged. "He and his brother continued to serve us with great enthusiasm; Sunstreaker got us some chips with his paintings, Sideswipe helped us to get weapons and equipment... They probably did even more, but they were good at keeping secrets. Then, one day they betrayed us and left for the Autobots. I recall that red twerp... probably he had to do something with their urgent departure. Gold goes so well with red." He kicked into Sunstreaker. 

"Well then, I'll go get somebody else to watch them - we're Seekers, we should be scouting the area for the Bots. They will come. They always do." 

Mirage looked wearily at Skywarp, who just shrugged and smiled. "Unfortunately I did receive orders not to hurt you too badly." He leaned down, stroking Mirage's vents until the spy shook the fingers away. "But the moment you're no longer useful..." He smiled wider, retreating back to a corner, to take up guard position.

"Are you feeling alright Sunstreaker?" Mirage asked softly. 

"Aside the fact that my fuel tank wants to empty itself on the floor...?" the artist asked back. He sounded sick. "Oh, perfectly. The kick aches a little but it'll cease as soon as I can get my hands on that blue winged slagheap and tear off his head so I could put it on the shelf-" 

Before Sunstreaker could finish, a null ray shot struck Skywarp, sending the 'con face down to the ground unconscious. Jazz entered the room grinning and proudly holding a detached null ray, Bumblebee trailing him. The pair quickly helped Mirage and Sunstreaker out of the bindings, and escorted them out of the human power plant. 

***

The room was dark, and the air heavy with lingering heat and the smell of hot metal and circuitry. Sunstreaker's golden finger traced patterns on Mirage's plating before he caressed the interface panel shut. Then, he moved closer and embraced the spy's waist with one arm, to rest a bit before deciding if he wanted to recharge or go out and have some high-grade or wash, or simply join the others playing poker and trying to coax Jazz into singing. The saboteur was a famous musician before the war and the artist knew that some of the Ark crew were trying to make a replica of his favorite instrument. 

Mirage's vents gently huffed against Sunstreaker's neck as the blue and white mech rested his helm right under his lover's chin. One arm was curled up between their frames, the other settled on Sunstreaker's shoulder in a loose embrace. His engine was lightly purring in contentment, a small smile unseen by the golden warrior on his lips. 

"Cybercat," the golden twin murmured, running his hand over side seams and the blue hips. "That's what you are. A damn big, smug and evil cybercat. Of course, on the outside, he's beautiful, but once you lower your guard... he'll show his claws." 

"Not to a master who keeps him happy," Mirage said playfully. "Personally, you've always reminded me of a cyberwolf, as dangerous as he is beautiful, with an untamable spark, and may Primus help the mech who thinks he can take one down." And with such an insistent need to keep his pack safe and to be with them, but Mirage left that unsaid. 

Sunstreaker stretched lazily. "You are also a shameless flatterer, Mirage," he said, "But never mind. I like shameless flattery. In fact, I deserve it." He smiled and leaned closer to kiss his mate. 

Ever since the injury on his face and the unfortunate incident with the power plant, where the Seekers lifted some darkness off his past, the artist and Mirage's relationship deepened. Sunstreaker didn't try to shove the spy away anymore; in fact, to a careful observer, it appeared as he actively pursued Mirage's attention and care. However, he often fell into slight depressive phases, when he was broody and distant. He often turned to his art then, but he never showed the pieces to anybody, aside maybe Sideswipe. That wasn't anything new or unusual - they were Spark Twins and everybody knew that they will never leave each other, no matter what happens. 

"Don't I know it," Mirage murmured. "And I love to please my beautiful cyberwolf."

Sunstreaker let out a soft, pleased growl then caressed his lover again. "So, what should we do? It's still early, everybody's awake." 

"I hear some new games were installed on the Ark's computer network. Perhaps we can try one of them later. Although I hear some of the crew have grown a little enamored with them," Mirage said with a small, amused chuckle. He hugged Sunstreaker closer. "Although this is nice as well." Primus preserve his spark if he ever told Sunstreaker he liked cuddling with him. 

"You're not much help, are you?" the golden twin squinted down, and gave Mirage's shoulder a flick. "We could do this, but we could do that, but there's this other option, too. If you don't say something, I'll poke you to read me a poem or a story. It's been a while since you did that." 

Mirage giggled, optics glittering with amusement. "I'd love to read to you, if you'd like. Any requests?"

"Surprise me," the golden mech shrugged lightly. He loved poetry, and he had to admit, Earth poets weren't too bad in what they did, either. 

Mirage twisted in Sunstreaker's arms, reaching for the berthside desk and ruffling through his datapads. A smile lit his faceplates as he picked one up. He settled back against Sunstreaker, one hand settling over his lover's. "Jazz introduced me to this on our last mission. It's not actually a poem, but a song. It still reads quite beautifully however.

Couldn't save you from the start  
Love you so it hurts my soul  
Can you forgive me for trying again  
your silence makes me hold my breath  
All time has passed you by

for so long I've tried to shield you from the world  
you couldn't face the freedom on your own  
Here I am  
left in silence

You gave up the fight  
you left me behind  
all that stands forgiven  
You'll always be mine I know deep inside  
all that stands forgiven

Watch the cloud drifting away  
Still the sun can't warm my face  
I know it was destined to go wrong  
You were looking for the great escape  
to chase your demons away

for so long I've tried to shield you from the world  
you couldn't face the freedom on your own  
Here I am  
left in silence

You gave up the fight  
you left me behind  
all that stands forgiven  
You'll always be mine I know deep inside  
all that stands forgiven

I've been so lost since you've gone  
why not me before you  
why did fate deceive me

Everything turned out so wrong  
Why did you leave me in silence

You gave up the fight  
you left me behind  
all that stands forgiven  
You'll always be mine I know deep inside  
all that stands forgiven."

Mirage set the pad aside, twisting in Sunstreaker's arms again as he asked, "It's lovely isn't it?"

Sunstreaker's optics widened as he listened to the words. When Mirage finished, he sat up and just stared into the nothing for a while then slipped off the berth and walked to a trunk shoved in the corner; it was a small collection of his personal belongings, a few datapads, miniature holos, some art supplies. He took out a tiny holoprojector and it buzzed to life in his hands. He said nothing.

"Sunstreaker?" Mirage asked as he sat up on the berth. He slipped off it, taking a few steps towards the golden artist, before stopping, hesitating. "A-are you alright?" He started wringing his hands worriedly, fearful that he'd offended Sunstreaker somehow.

"This is Stainless, our creator, and us," Sunstreaker whispered, holding up the holo a bit. "He loved us, on his own way. He was a difficult mech... Sometimes I wished for his death, but... He was still my creator, and I adored him. He broke my seal. He taught me how to handle the airbrush."

Mirage walked closer, arm brushing against Sunstreaker's as he studied the image of the stern looking mech. "I can see he modeled a few of your frame's traits after himself." It wasn't unusual, many creators left something of themselves in their creations. Mirage himself shared several traits with his spark carrier, Prism, whom had perished of sickness when he'd been too young to remember her.

"He always loved me more than Sideswipe. I think he never wanted Twins, no matter how much of a unique thing it is. Probably that's why... Sides is so strong." He flicked the switch on the projector. Stainless was glaring at him now, with a Decepticon insignia on his chest. He looked very proud with it. 

"He followed Megatron first. We followed him. It sounded nice... It was fun. A big game... But then... things changed. Not much, but we began to suspect something. Stainless never wavered. He called me a petro-rabbit for getting edgy. He didn't see the mech fluid on the arena floor. He didn't see the labs where some were rewired to better serve the cause."

Mirage slowly stroked Sunstreaker's arm in comfort. He wasn't sure what to say. There wasn't really anything he could say to make his lover feel better. "War can bring out the worst in a mech," he said sympathetically, remembering all the faces of friends who had taken up arms with the Decepticons to spare their own lives. 

He remembered past conversations, he knew the mech on the image was dead, and had been for a long time. "May I ask... what happened?" A question with so many different answers. What happened to the mech on the holo, what happened to the golden mech beside him, what happened to make Sunstreaker and Sideswipe leave the Decepticons, what happened to make things change for them.

Another flip of the switch. Stainless was standing with a bright grin, one arm around a slender white and red femme, the other holding a youngling close. It looked a bit like Sideswipe.

"It's his second family... his third son. The 'Cheeky Pitspawn'. He was a nice kid... sort of. He liked us. We taught him things... Stainless left us on our own long before and moved away, then in Kaon, he met with Mirrorshine. He only called us when his son was to be named." He shook his head; the memories came without any order. "Triad was the first state which was attacked by the formal Decepticon army. It was the beginning of the war. Stainless was there that time, visiting the Medical Center. Nobody told him there'll be an attack. Not even I-" His voice broke.

"H-he mentioned that he wants to visit Triad, but I thought... he knows. And the Center... I didn't think they'll bomb it. When we got to know... we went there and... we found them." He clicked. "S-Streamline... offlined in my arms."

Mirage's spark ached at the grief filled words. "I'm so sorry Sunstreaker," Mirage said softly, wishing he could take some of the pain from his love's spark. He wanted to share his own past pain's with Sunstreaker, show the warrior he wasn't alone in his mournful sorrow. However, Sunstreaker needed to unburden himself of his own past, not hear Mirage's as well.

"After that... We wanted to leave. But they got wind of it, and... Whenever we started to act up, they pointed a gun at the head of one of us, threatening the other. So we played along and... we fought. Then came Cliffjumper. I managed to spare him and tell him a few words about the next attack. Of course, he forgot to mention us and the Autobots took us prisoner, but at least we were out of the Cons' grasp. We immediately joined the Autobot forces. Sideswipe fared well... He was always the better one of us. I remained the 'once-Con'. But I didn't care. I was trying to atone. I thought... I could correct something that could not be corrected anymore."

"They're just bitter hypocrites Sunstreaker. You'd do anything to see the Decepticons lose this war just like any of us would." Mirage's arm curled across Sunstreaker's back, pressing his side against his lover's. "What matters is you're trying to make up for your past actions, and you've been hurt by the Decepticons just as much as any of us, maybe even worse. They were supposed to be your allies and they betrayed you."

"Just like I betrayed my father." 

Mirage stared up at Sunstreaker, uncertain. "...How?" He asked slowly.

"I should have asked when he was going to Triad. I should have told him. I should have... been a better son." He covered his face with one hand; he nearly dropped the projector, his servos were glitching so much, his hand shook. 

Mirage laid a free hand on Sunstreaker's, trying to soothe the shaking hand. "It's their fault Sunstreaker. It's always the high command's responsibility to inform it's soldiers of such things, to prevent losses among it's ranks. And it sounds like you were the best son Stainless could have hoped for, you did everything within your power to please him and follow in his footsteps. You loved him, admired him, and you trusted him to know best."

"Still..." The artist let out a long sigh and flipped the switch again - the next holo was of a younger-looking Stainless holding a sparkling Sunstreaker in his arms with the proudest smile ever. "Knowing it doesn't make the pain go away." He looked at Mirage. "Nobody have ever taught me how to forgive myself."

"Forgiveness comes with peace of mind and an acceptance of your own limitations. You can't change the past, but you are working to improve the future. Hopefully with time you can find your own absolution."

The golden artist gently set the projector on the floor and reached out to pull Mirage closer. "Sideswipe couldn't help me all on his own."

"Primus willing, I'll never leave you. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me Sunstreaker, and I'll do whatever I can to help ease your spark," Mirage vowed, arms wrapping around the warrior's neck and pressing close to the gold frame.

Sunstreaker hugged back and looked into his mate's optics. "Thank you." He leaned his head on the spy's shoulder, offlined his optics, and smiled. "I love you, Mirage."

~End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song quoted is Within Temptation's 'Forgiven'.
> 
> AAAND, this chapter concludes the Masterpieces Arc! Thank you for sticking around and taking the time to comment! While I did not answer to them, I had a great time reading your opinions. It's just, you guys were putting Sunstreaker down, and it irked me a teensy bit, because I played him. XD But it's okay, at least I was getting opinions. I also did not want to spoil the ending. I really wonder how you feel about him now.
> 
> Due the overwhelming interest (1K+ hits, omfg), I'll look around my old docs, to see if I have anything more to put up. So if you enjoyed Masterpieces, come around once in a while to see if I added something that catches your attention. =3 Thank you for your support again! Peace out. <3


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